


Hired Love

by Roo_Bastmoon



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Romance, Smut, Telepathy, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:06:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 60,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roo_Bastmoon/pseuds/Roo_Bastmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Weiss defeated Schwartz and Esset, Kritiker allowed the assassins to disband. Now Yoji works as a host in a companion club. By chance, Schuldich stumbles into his establishment, and decides to buy his time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Yoji checked himself in the mirror; he looked good. Straggly blond hair, black sunglasses, black string necklace, black leather vest, black leather pants, big black boots. 

He was going through a black period.

The customers always liked him in this color. This, or dark emerald green. But he didn’t like wearing green for some reason, so he usually wore black. 

He’d started working at Tarot, the host club, about three months ago. Sure, he’d tried other things. Working odd jobs, being a waiter, a painter, a clerk. He even thought about trying to do detective work again, but . . . after everything, he just didn’t feel comfortable out in the sunlight, putting in a nice, normal nine-to-five. 

Neon lights and back alleys and the Tokyo night sky, sans stars—that suited him. 

At first, he thought he’d work as a companion for lonely rich ladies, but he soon discovered that ladies weren’t the ones pandering for hired company. 

It didn’t bother him. The men. It really didn’t. 

Tarot was an exclusive club; the customers were carefully screened when they made an appointment and the rules were made clear before they ever got in the front door. Hosts were good for conversation and a few drinks at the club, or, for extra, available as escorts to an event. For a fee too steep (and too illegal) to even bother mentioning, a host might even bed a customer, but that was never expected.

Yoji needed money desperately—he’d had less than ten thousand yen to his name when Kritiker disbanded Weiss—but he never slept with any of his clients. The most they ever did was rub their hands up and down his thigh, play with his hair, and flirt a little. And Yoji was good at flirting. Very, very good. That’s why he had so many customers, and most kept coming back. 

It was a living. He wasn’t proud of it; he wasn’t ashamed. It paid the rent and there was always money left over for those little luxuries like food and clothes and, if he had a good month, cigarettes. 

He always made sure to save a little extra money on the side for train tickets, so that he could visit Omi and Ken. They were doing well. Omi was at Tokyo University; Ken worked as a P.E. instructor at High School 49. He visited them whenever he could. Ran moved Aya out of Tokyo, so he hadn’t a chance to visit them yet; maybe for New Year’s. 

He told the others he’d got a job as a party planner. In a way, it was true. Tarot had themed nights and Yoji was often in charge of picking the costumes and decorations and food. It was really the only time he hung out with the other hosts, or even spoke much. He had an eye for flare, they all said.

He flat-out refused to order flowers, though. Wouldn’t go near them. Wouldn’t even stand for a bouquet at his regular table. The owner, Masa, just shook his head and let Yoji have his way. 

"Divas always have their idiosyncrasies," he’d said, clapping Yoji on the back. 

Yoji wasn’t a diva, not really. He was popular and he was pretty, but he kept his head down. He didn’t want attention; he wanted to pay his bills, and have someone else pick up the bar tab, and die a nice slow death of Cirrhosis of the liver, before he hit thirty. Being a host ensured that.

He expertly applied some charcoal eyeliner, pushed his specs back up, and blew the mirror a kiss. "Knock ’em dead, cowboy."

~*~

Schuldich was amused. It had been a good long while since he’d found anything amusing. 

He’d been walking, rather aimlessly, down a seedy little street, trying to block out the thoughts of the sheep around him. Suddenly he’d looked up and saw it—Tarot—in bright neon red . . . loopy, loopy script. 

Smiling bitterly, he thought of Brad. 

It’s not like he had anything better to do; he walked in.

"May I help you?" the bouncer asked curtly, before he’d even stepped across the threshold.

"Perhaps," Schuldich said. "Thought I might go in for a drink. You do have drinks in this bar, right?"

"Tarot is by invitation only." The bouncer held up a business card. "Call this number and make an appointment. And there’s a dress code." The man raked his eyes over Schuldich, taking in his black jeans and sloppy black sweater. He looked at the long orange hair, tied back with a black bandana, and twisted his lips.

Schuldich narrowed his eyes. Now he was interested. Before it had just been a way to kill time, but this was a challenge. He took the card and crushed it in his fist. //You don’t need me to make an appointment.//

The bouncer blinked. "You don’t need to make an appointment."

//I can go on in.//

"You can go right in."

"Thank you." //Go play in traffic.//

The bouncer’s shoulders went slack, and he walked out without looking back. 

Schuldich smirked and sauntered over to the club’s door. Solid oak; big brass handles. //How swank.// He walked inside—and paused. //Jesus Christ.//

Inside, Tarot was huge. The lower section had a hardwood dance floor and an orchestra pit. All the tables were placed in circular booths, against the wall. Each booth had plush leather seats, round tables (complete with linen, flowers, and candles) and a gorgeous boy in an erotic, but tasteful, outfit. 

Schuldich snapped his jaw shut. 

The bar was in the center of the room, forming a tight square around the bartenders—who were all pretty to look at as well. Glasses of every kind hung in tumblers overhead. The bar itself was glass; the stools were, of course, leather. 

Upstairs was hard to see; it was relatively dark. He could make out bodies pressed close together—maybe that’s where people did drugs or fucked or whatever. Schuldich scanned the area with his mind, surprised to find that it was mostly couples kissing, or just watching the dancers down below. 

//Congratulations, Schu. You’ve found yourself an upscale gay bar.//

He tucked his hands in his pockets and shuffled over to the bar. "Gin," he said.

The bartender, a redhead, blinked at him. "Sir?"

"Gin," he repeated. The music wasn’t that loud in here.

"What table shall I send it to, sir?"

//Table? What the hell?// He read the boy’s mind. Apparently clients needed to make an appointment with a host—whichever young man best fit his fantasy, if it was his first time—and stay at the table with their companion. Food and drinks were brought to the table and charged to the client’s account after the evening was over.

He quickly looked around the room, picking the first table he saw. "Twelve. I’m at table twelve."

"I’ll bring it right over for you, sir." 

"Try not to take too long," he said, nodding. Then he made his way over to twelve.

//Let’s see whose party I’ll be crashing tonight.//

A man in an expensive business suit sat at the table; he was leaning forward eagerly, engaged in conversation with his host. 

//Get up and go home to your wife. Confess to her you’re gay. Go find yourself a pretty boy and fuck like minks.//

"E-excuse me," the man said, bolting up from the table. "I have to . . . I have to . . ." He shrugged and ran for the door.

Schuldich stepped up to the booth. "Now that was just plain rude."

He looked at the host. //Fucking hell. It’s better than Christmas.//

Yoji Kudo sat at table number twelve, his long arms casually draped over the sides of the booth. He looked . . . edible. Bewildered, frightened, and far too thin, but still sexy as hell. 

"Black’s your color." Schuldich smirked.

Yoji tried to get to his feet, but Schuldich pushed the table forward, trapping him against the booth. "Now, now, kitten. I’m not here to pick a fight."

"Schuldich . . ."

//Just play it cool, Kudo.// "Long time no see, Yoji."

The blond swallowed thickly. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for a little companionship."

Yoji snorted.

"It gets a little lonely, what with all your teammates dead and the guys that pay your bills going underground."

"I’ll just cry a river for you then, shall I?" Yoji started pushing back on the table.

"Why don’t you join me for a drink instead?" Schuldich let go and plopped down in the booth. 

Yoji stared at him.

He fished in his jeans, but he was out of cigarettes and he’d left his coat back at the hotel. "Got a cigarette, Yo-tan?"

The blond glared. "What the fuck do you want?" he hissed.

"At the moment, a smoke."

Just then, the bartender came over with his gin. "Ah, thank you." Schuldich took a sip.

"Is everything all right, sir?" the bartender asked.

Schuldich shot Yoji a look. "Excellent. Yoji here was just going to offer me a cigarette, weren’t you, Yoji?"

For a moment, it looked like the blond was going to rat him out. ~He could kill everyone here if I make a scene.~

//That’s true. I could.// He smiled lazily.

"Jun," Yoji said. "Could you get my guest a pack of . . . what’s your brand?"

"Lucky Strikes?" Schuldich asked. They probably didn’t have them, but it was worth a—

"Coming right up, sir." The bartender scurried away.

"What service." He swirled his glass. "This is a nice little set up, Kudo. I’m impressed."

Yoji sat down carefully on the far side of the booth. "Look. If you’re here for revenge, can we just get this over with?"

Schuldich pointedly looked in Yoji’s eyes. "What’s the rush? Your hot date ran away."

"No doubt your fault," Yoji muttered. ~Has he already killed the others?~

Schuldich sighed. "I already told you, I’m not here for a fight. Relax. Weiss lives."

~Get out of my mind.~

//Stop projecting so loud.//

"If you can read my thoughts, then you know that there is no Weiss. Not anymore."

Frowning, Schuldich did a quick check and saw that it was true. Yoji had been on his own for almost five months. He lived in a ramshackle studio apartment, usually forgot to eat any dinner, scraped by enough money to feed the neighborhood strays and visit the other kitties on the weekends, and he thought Schuldich looked hot in black, too. 

//Thanks.//

~Fuck you.~

"Could be fun. How much do you cost?" Schuldich asked.

Yoji winced. "It’s not like that."

"Isn’t it?" He sipped his gin. Yoji looked miserable. "Want a drink, Kudo?"

He asked this just as the bartender brought him his cigarettes. "Can I get a whisky for him? And . . . what’s on the menu here?"

The bartender bowed. "Whatever you desire."

Schuldich raised his eyebrows. Expensive joint. Still, it would be going on that businessman’s bill since it was his appointment, so he shrugged. "Forget the whisky. Bring two lobsters, lots of butter, a bowl of pasta, alfredo, white wine, and a chocolate cake. Tonight’s a celebration."

~What the hell . . .?~

//You need some fattening up and it’s not like it’s coming from my wallet.// "Think you can get it here without too long of a wait?"

"Of course, sir. I’ll see to it personally." The bartender—Jun, was it? Jun turned and made a bee-line for the kitchen.

"And they say good help is hard to find." Schuldich tapped his cigarette pack. He lit two in his mouth and handed one to Yoji.

The blond took it and just held it there.

"Well, darling, what should we talk about while we wait?"

Yoji didn’t say anything. His thoughts were scattered. He was nervous. His hands were cold. He didn’t know if he could trust Schuldich about his teammates. He worried that Schuldich was going to start killing people before he could reach for a weapon. 

"Not one for talk, huh? Okay then." //Don’t need your lips to move just to hear the pretty lies.// "Why would I bother with killing the other kittens?" Schuldich asked, looking down at his drink. "Revenge? You were just doing your jobs. Little heroes," he mumbled, knocking the rest of the gin back.

"If you’ve done anything to them . . ."

Schuldich paused, interested. "Yes?" 

"I’ll kill you. And I’ll take my time," Yoji said softly. Softly enough that it sent a shiver up Schuldich’s spine. 

He waggled his eyebrows. "That’s kinda sexy."

"You’re a pervert, Schuldich," Yoji said.

"And you’re a whore." He grinned.

"I sit. I talk. I drink. That’s all," Yoji growled.

"Oh. Have I offended your honor?" Schuldich’s hand fluttered to his heart. 

"Schuldich. The others?"

Sighing, Schuldich wrapped his mind around Yoji’s consciousness and pulled tight, drawing him in. Briefly he felt Yoji’s shock and confusion, then he reached out. Omi was at the library, studying. Ken was at home, watching a porno in his boxers. Ran was in a little house half an hour outside the city, taking a shower and thinking about Ken; Aya was downstairs packing lunch for the next day. 

He let go quickly, exhausted. He slumped over the table. "There . . . you see . . . Everybody’s got a pulse, even Ran."

Yoji’s hands were splayed on the table; he looked seasick. "You . . . you just . . ."

"I tapped them." //All I need is to see your face and I can pick your thread up anytime.//

The blond swallowed. "Does it hurt? You look pale."

//Concerned for my well being, kitty cat?// He took a long drag on the cigarette. "Most telepaths can’t do long distances. It’s taxing."

Yoji nodded, relaxing slightly. Finally. He took a smoke. "This is a good brand. Thick."

"Yeah," Schuldich agreed, relaxing slightly. 

They sat in silence for a while, which was actually nice. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Yoji was pretty good company. Attentive, but relaxed. Open. And it wasn’t an act, either. Schuldich could tell. The other man just had a way about him; made others want to spill their guts or just close their eyes and be.

He was tired. Tired of running, tired of hunting. He was tired of being alone. 

"So," he said, blowing smoke over Yoji’s head. "How did you find your way to Tarot? Crawford didn’t see that in your cards."

Green eyes narrowed. "Crawford didn’t see a lot of things, apparently."

He tamped down on the bitterness. Of course the White Knight was going to judge them. He was a hero, after all. "Apparently. So what brought you here?"

Yoji shrugged. "Needed the money and it’s not like it’s really work."

//Being a whore comes naturally to you?//

Anger. And . . . embarrassment. Ho ho. The Weiss kitty didn’t like it that Schuldich thought ill of him. Interesting.

"I told you," Yoji said through grit teeth, "I’m just a companion. I’ve never even kissed another man."

Schuldich squinted.

~Not for work, anyway.~ Yoji added. 

Who had Yoji kissed? On purpose? For pleasure? Schuldich really wanted to know; it burned him a bit. But then again, he didn’t want to care, so he didn’t go rooting around in Yoji’s noodle for it. "I always figured you were more of a ladies’ man. At least, I know that’s what you always figured."

Yoji flicked his ashes in the ashtray. He shrugged. 

"Got over it, did you?"

"What’s it to you?"

Schuldich smirked. "I’m a very curious person."

"Well, what are you doing in a gay bar?" Yoji shot back.

"I was curious." He stabbed out his cigarette, leaned back in the booth, and folded his hands over his belly. "C’mon, Kudo. I’m your guest. Humor me."

Yoji sighed. "I was working as a waiter in the sushi shop across the street. The guys coming out of here looked like they made a lot more money. I applied to bartend."

//But you were too pretty for that.//

Almost imperceptibly, Yoji nodded. "Look, I used to kill people for a living. Now I get paid to talk to guys. Yeah, I flirt. I don’t fuck for money. Mostly I just get paid to keep lonely guys company. Some of them are actually, you know, nice."

"For losers."

~Something made you walk in the front door, too.~ "So am I." Yoji reached over, picked up Schuldich’s glass and held it high. Jun was there in a few seconds, with another gin.

"Hm." Schuldich settled against the booth. "Not a bad gig. You’re a modern-day male geisha."

~It’s not a pleasure cruise, either, but whatever.~ Yoji rubbed his temple. "Talking in my head is weird."

He chuckled. "Gets a little crowded sometimes."

"I don’t know how you do it and stay sane. Then again, you’re not sane, are you?" Yoji murmured, picking up Schuldich’s refilled glass and sipping. He winced. "Straight gin?"

Schuldich nodded. //Not for kids.//

Yoji kept his eyes locked on Schuldich’s as he drained the glass and held it up for another. Jun was there momentarily.

Schuldich raised his eyebrows. "Well, Kudo. You’ve got a hobby. How quaint."

Images of Yoji standing in his kitchen, alone, in the dark, drinking straight from a bottle, filled Schuldich’s mind. There was such sadness there. He was tempted to say something cruel, but since Yoji expected him to, there wasn’t much point. 

Jun came back and handed Schuldich his gin and Yoji two glasses of white wine. "Your dinner should be ready in another fifteen minutes. We appreciate your patience." The boy flash a smile—brilliant, if a little practiced; definitely suggestive—and at Yoji’s nod, went back to the bar.

"What about you?" Yoji asked.

"Huh?" He blinked.

"What have you been up to?"

What had he been up to? He’d been smart enough to access Brad’s accounts after all this went down, but before Esset could recover. He had enough money to get by for a few months, maybe a year, if he was careful. Then he’d have to start looking for work again. Killing, most likely. Maybe bodyguarding. Hell, if he wanted to, he could even whore like Kudo. He certainly knew the ropes. "I’ve been catching up on my reading. Lots of books stacked up on the nightstand, what with me being so busy trying to end the world and everything."

Surprisingly, Yoji smirked. He finished his cigarette. "That never seemed to add up. Schwartz and Esset. I can’t see how bringing a big bad demon to Earth really fit your angle."

Schuldich suddenly felt a chill. "Brad knew it wasn’t going to go down that way. But we did what Esset told us anyway."

"Why? If you knew they were going to fail, why bother?"

He shuddered. "You don’t say no to them, Yoji."

The blond trailed his thumb across his lower lip. Schuldich watched—back and forth, back and forth. Finally, the other man nodded. "Right."

So, yes. Brad knew Esset would fail, but he also knew Schuldich would live, most likely; so he kept them on that track. It made Schuldich at once angry and . . . sad. "I don’t have regrets," he murmured to himself.

"That must be nice," Yoji said. "No regrets, no conscience. Just you and your Id, doing whatever you want."

Schuldich grinned. "Has its perks."

They were quiet again. Schuldich looked around the club. He was intensely aware of Yoji, who was intensely aware of him. The man’s thoughts were running in circles. He was still reeling from seeing Schuldich; his instincts told him they should be fighting in a death match by now. He couldn’t help but be a little concerned for Schuldich, who apparently looked pale and tired—that had Schuldich shaking his head. And most intriguingly of all, Yoji couldn’t help thinking that Schuldich was attractive.

With deliberate slowness, he turned his head and looked Yoji up and down. The leather was nice. Form-fitting. Yoji’s hair was glossy; it wisped at his cheeks. Those damned glasses were on the tip of his nose. His arms . . . wiry, but muscular. He really did look hot. "You’re not so bad yourself."

Yoji lowered his gaze. He didn’t quite squirm, but Schuldich could tell that he wanted to. He watched the blond sip his wine. 

This was nice. In a weird, implausible, totally fucked-up sort of way. Just the two of them, candlelight, and an interesting conversation. Yoji’s thoughts were unpredictable but not edgy. For the first time in months, Schuldich actually felt like a human being again. He smiled genuinely.

Yoji’s eyes widened. ~He wants to be with someone, anyone, who knows him. You know who he was,~ the man thought suddenly. There was a disgusting wave of pity.

But Schuldich couldn’t fire back, because it was true, and he was tired of lies. They stared at each other. Schuldich felt naked.

Waiters came over with their dinner. Lobster, pasta, and chocolate cake. Schuldich grinned. His favorites. This was the meal he was supposed to have had with Bradley, on their anniversary . . .

Out of habit, perhaps, Yoji reached over and snapped his napkin open, then placed it on Schuldich’s lap. He did the same for himself, and then waited for Schuldich to begin. 

Smirking, he pick up his cracker and broke open the claw. Juice squirted out. He laughed.

Yoji smiled—the first time, Schuldich noted—and followed suit..

"Mm! Fuck, that’s good," Schuldich moaned.

Yoji nodded. He ate delicately, almost erotically, which Schuldich was sure was a habit, too. There were probably host training courses on how to live, eat, and breathe sexily. 

~I can’t believe I have an appetite. How long has it been since I last ate?~ Yoji thought to himself. ~Fuck, thank God Schuldich ordered this.~

He tried some of the pasta—it was yummy, creamy goodness. "Mm. Try the pasta."

Yoji did. "It’s really good," he said, covering his mouth. 

They ate in silence. Yoji was very attentive. If Schuldich needed the salt, it was there by his hand. If his glass was empty, Yoji ordered another. The blond handed him slices of lemon, ramekins of butter, and extra napkins from time to time, purely out of reflex. 

It amused him to no end.

He picked up his napkin and dabbed at some butter on the corner of Yoji’s mouth. The blond froze.

"Missed some," Schuldich murmured huskily. Fuck, he loved pushing the blonde’s buttons. He finished by swiping his thumb down Yoji’s chin and sticking it in his mouth. He sucked. Loudly. 

Yoji swallowed. And blushed. The blond ate more carefully, then. 

Schuldich stopped halfway through the lobster and took up the larger slice of cake. 

"Impatient?" Yoji asked, smiling.

"Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first."

Yoji watched him take a big bite. "Some things are worth waiting for. Me, I like taking my time." He looked at Schuldich from underneath his lashes.

Schuldich froze in mid-bite. He blinked, and swallowed. 

Yoji chuckled. ~Why am I flirting with him? He’s a killer!~

//Just like you.//

The blond frowned. ~I didn’t kill innocents.~

//Directly.// Schuldich pushed the plate with the smaller slice in front of Yoji. "Go on. Let’s see you take your time after you taste this."

Glaring, Yoji cut the cake with his fork and popped a bite in his mouth. Green eyes went wide, then closed in pleasure. "Hmm . . ."

A jolt of heat ran through Schuldich; he instantly got hard. Yoji looked like he was having an orgasm. 

He leaned over, sidling up close, and held Yoji’s chin still. "You’re a messy eater, Kudo," he whispered, licking up some whipped cream topping from Yoji’s lower lip.

The blond jerked back, but there was nowhere to go, as Schuldich had him in an iron grip. //Don’t struggle. I can tell you liked it.//

"N—"

Schuldich pressed Yoji back into the booth and brushed their lips together for just one second. "Why not?"

"For one thing," Yoji said, pupils huge and breathing heavy, "you’ll get kicked out. Kissing is not allowed on the lower level."

He shot a look up at the second floor. "What will it take to get you to the upper level?" he whispered, rubbing the tip of his nose over Yoji’s stubbled cheek. "More money? More wine? A declaration of undying love, perhaps?"

"My permission," Yoji said, voice hard like a stone. He slowly but forcefully pushed Schuldich back. "Which you’ll never have."

Schuldich quirked an eyebrow. "Never say never, kitten."

Yoji rolled his eyes. "Stop calling me that."

He shrugged, picking up Yoji’s fork. "Are there rules against feeding a host?" He dangled a piece of cake in front of Yoji’s mouth. 

Yoji’s lips pressed in a thin line. He was annoyed.

//What’s a matter? I dare ya.//

Eyes narrowed into slits, Yoji opened wide, took the cake into his mouth, and sucked his way off the fork. Then he closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and made a show of how good it was going down. 

Schuldich’s dick leapt in his pants. "Fuck," he murmured. //C’mon, Kudo. Let’s go upstairs. Tell me there’s a backroom? Tell me there’s a bedroom somewhere?//

Yoji shook his head. "Uh uh uh. I’m not that kind of girl." He smiled sweetly. 

//How about I fuck you up against a wall in a nice back alley? Are you that kind of girl?//

Yoji gasped, pushing against Schuldich’s chest in earnest. "Don’t make me call security."

They both knew it was bullshit; there wasn’t security invented that could match Schuldich. But Kudo was close to making a scene. Schuldich had him pretty rattled. 

He backed off. "Your loss." 

"Oh, I’m certain," Yoji said dryly.

The damnable thing of it was, Schuldich was a telepath. Yoji couldn’t hide the fact that he had an erection; that he was thinking about having sex with Schuldich, and guilty as that made him feel, it also turned him on; that he was scared and shy and confused and—this was most important—he liked the fact that he’d made Schuldich so aroused.

"One kiss," Schuldich said.

"No."

"One, and then I’ll leave." He drummed his fingers on his cheek. "Give me one good kiss—break the rules and do it right here—and I’ll get up and let you have the rest of your night in peace. Promise." He grinned. "Scout’s honor."

"You don’t have any honor."

"Just one little kiss," Schuldich said, pouting.

Yoji sighed. "And then you’ll go away?"

"Before you know it."

"Fine." Yoji huffed. "Let’s just get it over with."

Schuldich smiled. "How romantic." He waited. //You working up the nerve to get over here, or are you just playing hard to get?//

~You want it, you come get it, bastard.~

Quick as lightning, Schuldich was across the booth. He pulled Yoji to him, seized his chin and crushed him in a kiss. He tilted his head and fucked into Yoji’s mouth with his tongue, moaning. He lifted Yoji up, cupping and squeezing his ass, pushing the blond to straddle his lap. 

Yoji yelped—well, yelped as well as he could, considering Schuldich was sucking on his tongue—and grabbed Schuldich’s sweater up in both fists. Schuldich tilted his head back and forth, back and forth, clutching Yoji tightly. He sent the young man image after image of what it would be like if the two of them were to have sex—skin on skin, moans, gasps, his teeth on Yoji’s neck, his hot, thick cock drilling Yoji’s ass, the rake of Yoji’s nails down Schuldich’s back... 

//You could almost come, just from this, couldn’t you?//

~Stop stop stop oh God stop!~

Schuldich pulled roughly away, flicking the tip of his tongue over Yoji’s swollen lips. "Whatever you say," he whispered. 

He tossed Yoji back to the seats and stood, straightening his sweater. "Thanks for the meal." The wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Tasted good."

Smirking, he turned on his heel and walked across the dance floor. He could feel Yoji’s eyes on him. He could feel how hard and frustrated and confused Yoji was. 

Just as he put his hand on the exit, he sent back a single, damning thought: //Slut.// He could feel Yoji’s ache, as the door slammed shut. 

~*~


	2. Chapter 2

Yoji told Masa he wasn’t feeling well and left Tarot early. Paranoid, (or was it just instincts?) he took the long way home, using the subway, taking a bus, and walking around the block a few times. He was sure Schuldich hadn’t followed him, by the time he put the key in. 

Sighing, he toed off his shoes, twisted the locks, and rested his forehead on the door. That fucking bastard.

He was pretty shaken. That kiss was . . . Being in the other man’s mind was . . . 

Yoji took a long, hot shower, scrubbing down from head to toe. Didn’t get all the eyeliner off, though. Never did. 

Schuldich had made him feel so damned dirty. Yes, he’d felt good—very, very good, during the kiss. But afterward . . .

Slut.

He was gonna be sick.

Not bothering with pajamas, he padded to the kitchen, twisted the cap off a bottle of beer, and drank it all. The apartment was dark and quiet. It was late. Empty. He wished he could call Ken, or even Omi, but they both had day-schedules. Besides, what could he say to them?

Yoji was lonely. He was, by nature, a social creature. He missed being part of a team; missed the boys; missed living in each others’ pockets. It was like he wasn’t really living, now, because there was no one to witness his life. 

He opened another beer, turned on the radio—smoky, sad blues—and plopped down on the futon. The streetlamps’ light came through the blinds, covering him in stripes. The beer was foamy and thick. Cold. Not slick and acidic like that white wine had been . . .

Yoji turned over on his back, the cheap light cast bars over his naked body. Slowly, he slid his hand down his torso and cupped himself. He closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and stroked. Half-asleep, he came, thinking on a pair of cruel, green eyes.

~*~

Schuldich walked down quiet streets until morning. He smoked each of his Lucky Strikes down to the filter and let them fall from his fingertips. He’d had a lot to think about—Yoji, Brad, Esset. But he just let his mind fan out, the way children float in a pool during summer, enjoying the silence. The focus. He finally had something else to focus on besides this damned emptiness.

After Schwartz tumbled into the ocean and never bothered coming up for air, Schuldich had been hollow. Blank. He ate because his stomach ached. He slept because his eyelids drooped. His body seemed to go through the motions, the cycles of breathing in and out, the circadian fucking rhythms of living. But Schuldich had been frozen. Until tonight.

He was amused that a Weiss kitty had fallen into the gutter—not quite so white a knight now, right, Kudo? He’d enjoyed briefly flirting with danger; he’d liked rattling the other man’s cage. But more than that. The way Yoji responded to his kiss . . . like a lick of heat. A lightning strike. He’d seriously considered dragging the man upstairs and fucking him against the railing. 

Despite appearances, Schuldich was a very selective lover. He considered his bed partners carefully—had, ever since Bradley. Ever since his days at the Esset academy. When he slept with someone, he didn’t just play with their body—he went into their mind. Sure, he didn’t have to; he could tune them out. Brad had often blocked him off. But when he didn’t, it was so much better. Toward the end, Schuldich had gotten used to it; craved it.

The moment Brad died, Schuldich sensed it. Or rather, sensed the hole he’d left behind. The disconnect. He’d been caught in the undertow, trying to figure out which way was up and when to swim to the surface, when he’d felt Brad slip away. And in that moment, he just went slack. He had a choice. His body chose to struggle up; but the rest of him was at the bottom of the sea. 

He sighed and ground his last smoke under his shoe. Trudging up the stairs to his hotel, he didn’t bother asking for mail or calls (no one left to reach him) and he ignored the curious gaze of the bellhop as he pressed the elevator button to the top suite. 

His rooms were nice. Not too fancy, but he had all the creature comforts. He yanked off his bandana, stomped over to the big comfy chair that faced the balcony, and stared at the Tokyo skyline just as dawn broke, soft and pink. He sat, his hands folded over his belly. 

//Damn you.//

Brad had once called him impossible, and said, “You want to win a war? Fight it using an army of lovers.” And then the older man pushed him down against silk sheets and spread his legs. 

Schuldich remembered moaning. He remembered Brad’s aftershave. Brad’s teeth on his neck, his chest. He remembered sweat, and blood, and a vicious completion. The kind of silence no one else could give him.

He’d never have that again.

//You lost your goddamn war.//

He slept crooked in the chair and woke up still in his clothes. He tugged them off, hopping on one foot to the shower, when something stopped him—crumpled in his back pocket—Tarot’s business card. Smirking, he carefully straightened it and laid it on the counter. 

~*~

Two days later, Yoji was late for work. That earned a sharp look from Masa, but he gave the middle-aged man a sheepish look and a slight bow, and it all bowled over.

He’d had an appointment tonight with a new client who’d specifically asked that he’d wear green. That piqued Yoji’s interest. Perhaps he’d stolen someone else’s admiring customer?

//Not quite.//

Yoji froze, three steps from his booth. ~Fuck.~

//Not even dinner this time? Well, if you insist . . .//

Woodenly, Yoji approached the table, and there sat Schuldich, dressed in a navy blue suit that molded to his body, his orange hair spilling over his shoulders. 

“Good evening, kitten.”

“Shit.”

Schuldich smiled. “Won’t you sit down?”

“What the fuck are you doing here, Schuldich?”

The other man blinked. “Buying your time, Yo-tan. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You said,” he ground out, “that you’d leave me alone.”

“Correction.” Schuldich wagged a finger at him. “I said I would leave you alone that night. I never promised I wouldn’t come back.”

Yoji’s mind reeled.

“You better sit down before you fall down.” Schuldich patted the seat next to him.

Across the dance floor, the grand piano played softly. Murmurs, laughter, the clink of glasses, it buzzed all around him. Yoji rubbed his forehead, frowning. “I don’t . . . I don’t understand. What’s your game? Just . . . Just tell me.”

Schuldich stood, pressed his hand to the small of Yoji’s back, and maneuvered him into the booth. “It’s quite simple. You are a host. I am a man paying for your company. Funny how that works.”

~And the mind-fuck part?~

The German smirked. “My ulterior motives are just that—ulterior. Stop worrying about them. What would you like to drink? Or are you even remotely picky at this point?”

Yoji stared at the other man. “I don’t find this funny.”

Schuldich draped his arms over the back of his seat and said nothing. It was like he was waiting for Yoji to get it over with.

“Look, asshole,” Yoji lowered his voice. “I know you’re a sick fuck that likes to play with other people like they’re your own personal puppets, but fuck you if you think I’m gonna put up with this shit.” Yoji reached for his watch.

Schuldich’s hand shot out and gripped his wrist. //Don’t!// 

He sounded urgent, almost desperate. 

Yoji tried to pull away but Schuldich’s fingers were like a vice—they would leave a bruise. He frowned, and hissed, “My life may seem pathetic and stupid to you, Schuldich, and maybe it is, but I haven’t sunk so low that I’ll let you use me like a toy.”

For long moments, they just looked at each other. When it was clear that he couldn’t get free, Yoji relaxed his arm. Schuldich immediately loosened his hold, stroking his thumb over the ridge of Yoji’s wrist apologetically.

“Fair enough, Kudo.” Quiet. Serious. 

He pulled back. He had no idea what to make of that. 

//Summon your waiter. I’m starving. And so are you.//

The suggestion in Schuldich’s thoughts was powerful, persuasive, but not so much so that Yoji couldn’t have ignored it, gotten up, and walked away if he wanted to. So it was a little disturbing how easily his hand shot up to summon Jun. 

“Good evening,” Jun said, smiling. “What do you desire?”

“I’ll let Yoji pick tonight.” Schuldich smiled. “But I could use another pack of cigarettes.”

“Lucky Strikes, right?” Jun asked. 

Schuldich fired his finger at Jun like a gun and winked. 

Yoji swallowed. “Udon,” he choked out. “Tuna maki and udon.”

The German quirked an eyebrow. //What a humble feast.//

~It’ll be good even if it’s simple.~

“Two of that, Jun. And . . .” A slow smile spread on Schuldich’s lips. “Beer. Something dark and German.”

“Right away, sir.” Jun hurried off.

Yoji squirmed. Beer? Why did he have to say it like that? Did Schuldich know about the other night . . . ?

//Ho ho? What happened the other night, kitten?//

“Nothing.” Yoji wished his mind were a castle with a drawbridge that could barrel down on Schuldich.

Schuldich winced and jerked back a bit. “Mein Gott!” He rubbed his temple and glared at Yoji. “You didn’t have to do that; I wasn’t digging.”

“Do what?” He leaned forward. “Did I block you out?”

Schuldich nodded. “Kritiker never taught you how to, I take it. How stupid.” He sighed. “So, what happened with you and beer the other night?”

“I drank it,” Yoji said, looking around Tarot. Quiet night. Not too many customers this early. “What are you doing here?” he blurted.

“Look, can we skip the stupid questions?” Schuldich asked, as Jun returned. He handed Yoji his beer and then picked up his pack of cigarettes.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Yoji asked, striking a matching and holding it up. “Assassinate some high official? Heist a bank? Plot to take over the world?”

Schuldich took a deep breath and let tendrils of smoke curl out of his nose, before exhaling at Yoji. “Thought later I might run over a bus full of nuns and drown a bag full of kittens, but otherwise my agenda is miraculously bare.”

Yoji waved the match out and sat back. “Huh. Evil takes a vacation.”

Schuldich nodded and tapped his pack. “You want one?”

“That’s okay.”

But he did want one. He just didn’t want one from Schuldich.

Chuckling softly, Schuldich took out a slender stick and lit it from his own, his cheeks hollowing out as he sucked and puffed until Yoji’s cigarette lit. Then he handed it over.

Yoji accepted, because what else could he do? It was good. His nerves were frayed and smoking calmed him down, gave his hands something to do. ~This is so weird.~

Schuldich sipped his beer and raked Yoji with his gaze. “I like you in green, Kudo.” 

Yoji wore a green silk shirt about two sizes too small, tucked into ripped jeans—which consisted of more rips than denim. 

“Yeah?” Yoji said, blowing a smoke ring. 

“Matches with your hair. And eyes.”

“Yours too,” he murmured, looking down.

//You noticed. I’m touched.//

~Touched in the head, maybe.~ 

“Try the beer, smart ass.”

Yoji did. He choked. “Th-that’s thick!”

Schuldich nodded, chuckling. “Good stuff.”

Yoji rested his cigarette in the ash tray and folded his arms. “I guess.” He tried really, really hard not to look at Schuldich, but Schuldich looked good. Blue looked good on him; a suit looked good on him, made him look like less of a thug. 

//Flattering, Kudo.//

~Get out of my mind. Or I’ll do that wall thing again.~

Schuldich narrowed his eyes, but nodded. “So. Yoji. You work in a host club. What else? Hobbies? Interests? Significant others?”

Yoji looked over at Schuldich sharply. Pumping him for information? ~You could be more subtle about it.~

“I’m just making conversation.”

“No.” He swallowed. “There’s not much else.” Sometimes, if he had enough money, he’d treat himself to the movies, but none of them really interested him all that much. He didn’t have television. He did like music. “I listen to music. Jazz, mostly. I like Jazz.”

Everything about Schuldich changed almost instantly. He sat up straighter and smiled warmly. “Do you? A music-lover, hm.”

“I’m not an expert or anything; I just enjoy it.”

Schuldich nodded. “I like it too. I play a bit.” He frowned, looking a little bewildered. 

“What?” Yoji asked.

“Huh. Nothing.” //I guess I just never told anyone that before.// 

~Not even Schwartz?~

“Brad and Nagi already knew. Farfarello never cared. I . . . It was a long time ago, Kudo,” he said wearily.

Yoji nodded. “I’ve never done anything like that. Never painted or played an instrument or anything. I mean, I guess I’m a good dancer, but . . .”

Again, Schuldich brightened. “Good.” He stabbed his cigarette out. “Let’s go.”

Yoji blinked. “Dancing?”

Schuldich nodded to the dance floor. 

He was embarrassed. Not sure why. He was a good dancer, sure, but none of his clients ever asked him to do that. He’d never danced with another man before . . .

“Okay. Yoji?” Schuldich said, talking to him like he was a child. “This is a gay club. That means that the guys here dance with other guys and suck other guys’ cocks and fuck other guys.”

Yoji blushed.

“I’m just asking for a dance. At the moment.” Schuldich smiled like a shark. 

He considered refusing. 

Schuldich frowned. //Hm. Maybe you’re not as amusing as I’d thought. Maybe I should get a different host.//

“Excellent notion,” Yoji said immediately.

Schuldich looked around the room casually. “Could do. Lots of pretty boys here. Of course, they’d probably all break so easily . . .”

Yoji swallowed. “Are you making a threat?”

The German blinked innocently. “Was it too subtle for you?”

Growling, Yoji stood, but Schuldich was up on his feet too, crowding him against the booth. “Oh, I see you’ve changed your mind. Good call, Kudo.” He grabbed Yoji by the elbow and pulled him onto the dance floor.

The song “Fly Me to the Moon” was playing. Yoji stood there while Schuldich moved close to him. Two long fingers hooked into the belt loop of his jeans and pulled him flush up against the other man. 

Schuldich’s arms wrapped around his waist; his hands gently smoothed down Yoji’s ass. 

“Erm!” Yoji said, stumbling forward a bit. 

Schuldich grinned. He started swaying back and forth, and stared at Yoji’s mouth. “C’mon, Yoji. Thought you said you could dance.”

Yoji was rigid, he couldn’t help it. Schuldich was so close. He smelled so good. He was dangerous and evil and disgustingly cruel . . . and he was also turning Yoji on. He was so possessive, so . . . dominating. 

“Put your arms around me,” Schuldich whispered.

Yoji wound his arms up over Schuldich’s shoulders and—shockingly—tangled his fingers in Schuldich’s hair.

Smiling, Schuldich pulled them closer together, until they were cheek to cheek. //You’re very warm, Yoji.//

He closed his eyes and just let Schuldich sway them. In truth, he didn’t have the energy to fight much longer, and, as long as the other man didn’t stab him in the back or start a bloodbath in the middle of Tarot, one little dance was harmless enough. It was part of being a host. 

//That’s the spirit.//

~Get out of my head.~ 

Schuldich squeezed his ass. “Sorry. Habit.”

Sighing, Yoji rested his forehead on Schuldich’s shoulder. The other man smelled really damn fucking good. The suit was soft—quality fabric. And his hair . . . Yoji couldn’t stop playing with it.

“Mm,” Schuldich murmured, molding Yoji to him. 

Yoji startled a bit at the feel of Schuldich’s impressive erection, pressing against his thigh. “Fuck,” he whispered.

//That’s twice you’ve brought it up, Kudo. You want me to take you upstairs and fuck you silly?//

Yoji shivered. “Stop it,” he growled weakly.

Schuldich dipped him back and then pulled him up tight, touching their foreheads together. “Why are you trying to hide what is painfully obvious? You want me, Yoji. Even if I wasn’t a mind-reader, your dick doesn’t lie.” Schuldich smoothed a hand over Yoji’s crotch and rubbed up and down.

“Ugh!” Yoji grabbed Schuldich’s shoulders and squeezed his eyes shut, stepping back (as far as Schuldich would allow him.)

Schuldich’s hand rubbed down his thigh and back up over his ass, thrusting him forward again. //Wanna fuck you so bad, baby.//

Panicked, Yoji pulled away in earnest. He really didn’t relish the thought of taking it up the ass from anyone, let alone a man like Schuldich. Attractive or no, there were some lines Yoji wouldn’t cross. “I think our dinner is ready,” he said lamely.

Schuldich stared at him through lowered lashes, and then finally nodded. He hooked a finger over the top of Yoji’s jeans and tugged him back to the table. 

Yoji breathed a sigh of relief when he got back to his seat, finally able to hide his straining erection under the tablecloth. And best of all, Schuldich had to sit on the other side of him, a good two feet away. 

“Looks good.”

“It is,” Yoji murmured, swallowing thickly. God, this was so surreal. He picked up his chopsticks and moved to get a maki roll. Suddenly, he froze, his eyes going wide.

Under the table, Schuldich was brushing his calf up and down Yoji’s leg. 

“Schul . . .”

The German picked up a piece of tuna sushi and held it to Yoji’s lips. “Open wide,” he murmured.

Embarrassed beyond the telling of it, Yoji did. Actually, a lot of his guests liked feeding him for some reason.

//Because it reminds them of blow jobs.//

Yoji choked. 

“Poor baby. Have some more beer.”

He drank, relaxing slightly. This was all just a game to Schuldich. The more of a reaction Yoji gave him, the more of a reason Schuldich would act out. 

Schuldich’s legs now rested on either side of Yoji’s thighs, though no one could tell because of the tablecloth. He was effectively trapped. “I never figured you were this much of a pervert, Schuldich.”

“You’ve no idea.” Schuldich ate a roll, making a big show of licking his lips. “And stop butchering my name with your damned Japanese tongue. Call me Schu, for Christ sakes.”

Yoji frowned. ‘Schu’ just seemed too intimate. It was like the man was hacking away at the barriers between them, one by one. Well, good luck.

He looked down at his udon and involuntarily smiled. Noodle soup always reminded him of his grandmother. She’d practically raised him when he was little, while his parents were going through their divorce, and this was one of her comfort foods. He remembered a lot of rainy afternoons, his homework spread on the table, and afterward, she’d make udon and odango. 

He realized he’d just broadcast those memories to Schuldich.

The other man was looking at him curiously. 

“What?”

Schuldich shook his head. “You were a cute kid, is all.”

Yoji shrugged. “Everyone’s cute when they’re kids.”

The German vehemently shook his head. “Trust me, that’s a myth. But I meant, you were cute. Bet you were a looker in high school.”

And it was true; he was. Very handsome, in fact. But even though he’d always had a way with girls, he was never really comfortable with his looks until the police academy. Until he could prove he was more than a pretty face. 

Yoji couldn’t think of anything to say, so he didn’t talk. They ate. He was sure to keep a careful eye on anything Schuldich might need, keeping up the pretense that they were just a normal host and client couple. 

Jun came by as soon as they were done and cleared away the dishes. “Dessert?”

“Cheesecake,” Schuldich said immediately, smiling. 

“What kind, sir?”

Green eyes flicked over to him. “Don’t suppose you can make it New York style?”

Jun smiled. “Of course, sir.” He turned to Yoji.

Yoji shook his head. “Gotta watch my girlish figure.”

Schuldich raised an eyebrow. “We’ll just share one piece.”

Jun went to the kitchen, and Yoji fiddled with imaginary lint on his shirt. 

“Don’t tell me you’re actually worried about your weight,” Schuldich hissed.

He frowned. Not really. Of course, hosts couldn’t have an ounce of extra flab, but, Yoji was pretty skinny as it was. He just wasn’t used to eating this much.

Schuldich shook his head. “Poor, messed up kitten.” His right leg brushed over between Yoji’s legs. “What are we going to do with you?”

“I’ve no idea,” he said, sighing, “but I’m sure I’m not gonna like it. Schu.”

When Jun came back, Schuldich got up and sat next to Yoji in the booth. He picked up the fork and draped his arm around Yoji’s shoulders. Cutting the cake, he lifted the fork to Yoji’s lips. 

//Go slow.//

Not really sure why he was so compliant with all of Schuldich’s demands, Yoji opened his mouth and waited for Schuldich to place the cake on his tongue. Then he closed his mouth, and his eyes, moaning, as he slowly pulled back off the fork. 

//Fuck, you look sexy like that.// Schuldich’s free hand went under the table and rubbed up and down Yoji’s thigh. 

He watched as a faint blush rose in Schuldich’s cheeks. The other man breathed deeply, and his eyes were halfway closed. Surprisingly, he liked that he could make the other man so aroused. 

Schuldich lifted another piece to his mouth, and Yoji frowned. “What about you—?”

“I’ll get my share,” Schuldich whispered, brushing the cake on Yoji’s lower lip. 

He took a bite, but before he could chew, Schuldich put the fork down, cupped his chin, and kissed him. The other man’s tongue stroked into his mouth, smearing the cream around until Yoji could do nothing but melt against Schuldich and whimper.

The telepath sent him unholy mental images—Yoji spread out on a bed, as Schuldich licked whipped cream off of him. Schuldich down on his knees, sucking Yoji's cock—he could almost feel it, almost, his hands tangled in orange hair, that wicked tongue on him . . .

Schuldich’s hand rubbed him through his jeans until he was ready to come. 

~God, no, fuck, ah . . .~

//Want you.//

~No . . .~

Schuldich pulled away, tracing his thumb over Yoji’s swollen lips. “You are sex on legs, Yoji Kudo.” The way Schuldich said that . . . How could anyone sound condescending and awestruck at the same time?

“Get your hands off me, Schuldich.”

“Why?” Schuldich inched closer, nuzzling Yoji’s jaw. “I know you want them there.”

“I’m saying no.” Yoji gripped the other man’s wrist. “I’m not . . . not going to do this . . .” ~Not here.~

“Take me upstairs, then,” Schuldich whispered in his ear.

“No.”

“Fine. Come back to my place.” Schuldich laved his ear.

“Guh . . . Let me . . . let me just think about that . . . Um, no?” Yoji leaned back. “I’m blond, not stupid.”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” Schuldich growled, then bit his earlobe. 

Yoji yelped, seconds away from screaming or calling security or giving in and just letting Schuldich fuck him on the table. 

Schuldich pulled back and caressed Yoji’s chin. “I was wrong, Kudo.” He stood up and adjusted his blazer. “You’re not a slut.” //You’re a cocktease.//

Yoji frowned, oddly wounded. 

The other man leaned over and just barely brushed their lips together. “You should know better. It only makes me want you more,” he whispered.

“You—mm.” Schuldich grabbed his face and yanked him to his feet, pulling him across the table for a searing kiss, then dropped him back down. 

He smirked and tapped Yoji’s watch. “Time’s almost up. I only paid for two hours. Shame.” He cocked his head. “You’re expensive, you know?”

Yoji watched, angry, hurt, and so horribly turned on, as Schuldich walked toward the door. The man looked so damned smug and . . . and sexy. 

At that thought, Schuldich turned around and simply looked at him. Suddenly he changed direction and headed to the bar. He flagged down Masa and the two men exchanged words. 

Yoji watched as Schuldich handed over a credit card, his stomach tightening at the smile on Masa’s lips. ~What the shit are you doing now?~

//Tomorrow night. I’ve purchased you as an escort. Dress up. I’m talking class, here, Kudo. Much as I love the sight of you in barely-there jeans, I’m gonna need you in a penguin suit. I’ll pick you up here at seven; don’t be late.//

Schuldich nodded to Masa, who was bowing, and then he pinned Yoji with a look, turned on his heel, and walked out.

Yoji sat there, dazed. 

~*~

The next night, Schuldich drove his little two-seater sports car (black, of course) up to Tarot and double-parked. He didn’t have to wait long. Yoji was waiting for him just inside, dressed in a smart tuxedo with tails. Schuldich resisted the urge to tug on them. 

He slid his arm around Yoji’s waist—the other man stiffened slightly—and smiled. “My, my, don’t you clean up nice.”

Yoji looked him up and down. He was wearing a black suit with a black tie. Brad actually bought this outfit for him. It was a tad loose in the tights (he’d lost so much weight) but it was otherwise sharp and sleek. At least, Yoji thought so.

“I take it,” Yoji said as Schuldich led him down the steps, “that you’re not planning on murdering me when I’m dressed to the nines, right?”

Schuldich smirked. “Bloodstains are a bitch to get out.” He opened the door for Yoji and closed it when the younger man sat down. 

Yoji was quiet, but Schuldich could tell he was dying to know what was up. But Schuldich was a vicious, heartless bastard, so, he didn’t let on at all. 

The drive didn’t take long. He pulled up to the opera house and handed his keys to the valet. Then he walked around and waited for Yoji to join him. 

The other man frowned and worked his jaw. “The opera?”

“Jazz,” Schuldich clarified. “Jazz Festival of Tokyo.” He squeezed Yoji’s arm. //Figured it was the least I could do, since I upset your little world.//

Yoji looked skeptical, but Schuldich could tell he was impressed. There was no way the other man could possibly afford to go to concerts, much less sit in a private box, which Schuldich was sure to reserve. When Yoji sat down on the plush red velvet chair, and looked up at the plush red velvet curtains, he gaped. 

~This is . . .~

“Mm.” He handed Yoji a program. 

“Jazz of the Roaring Twenties.” Yoji smiled. “Cool.”

Schuldich smiled back. Two minutes later, the lights went down and slow, sweet sadness filled up the dark hall. The music was spectacular; it patched up all the spaces between them. Technically perfect, and emotive, too. 

He watched Yoji—watched the younger man close his eyes, smile, nod in time to the music. He was an exquisite young man. A few more minutes, and Schuldich chanced draping an arm over Yoji’s shoulder. 

Surprisingly, the other man just smiled up at him and then leaned over, resting his head on Schuldich’s shoulder. ~This is nice . . . I can forget for a while . . .~

Understanding totally, Schuldich nodded and brushed his chin back and forth over Yoji’s forehead. Yoji sighed. 

A few minutes later, Schuldich held his breath and placed a close-mouthed kiss to Yoji’s temple. The other man didn’t balk. In fact, he smiled. 

So. Yoji liked it slow and sweet. Like the music. He could do that.

Since Yoji’s eyes were closed anyway, he didn’t notice when Schuldich pulled the curtains to their box shut. The music wafted over them, though somewhat muted, and Schuldich just held the other man for a long time. 

The song ended, and Yoji moved to clap, suddenly realizing that the curtains were drawn. “What—?”

“Not a fan of crowds,” Schuldich murmured. “Too many X factors.”

Yoji frowned. “It’s the opera house. You don’t have to think like an assassin.”

“Plenty of people were assassinated in opera houses, kitten.” He ran a hand through Yoji’s hair. //Esset could still be looking for Schwartz survivors. I like to keep a low profile. Don’t like large crowds or wide open spaces.//

“You certainly didn’t mind drawing attention last night at Tarot,” Yoji murmured, tilting his head back.

Schuldich looked down at him as another song started up. “You made me lose my head.” 

He kissed Yoji then. It was warm and perfect. Yoji opened to him almost instantly, and he pressed his advantage. He smoothed his palm down the younger man’s chest and griped his hair. //Yoji . . .//

Yoji’s thoughts were all over the place. He wanted Schuldich, obviously. But he was scared. About the Schwartz thing and then the anal sex thing and, of course, about Schuldich’s own sadistic personality. And all those fears were well-founded.

But Schuldich didn’t care. 

“Yoji,” he whispered, pained. 

“Schu . . .”

That was it. Schuldich pulled Yoji up and into his lap.

“What are you—?!” 

He yanked Yoji down for another kiss and then cupped the man’s ass. Schuldich kept telling himself to go slow, but it was hard, because he really, really wanted Yoji now. 

He forced himself to relax, trading lazy, wet kisses. Yoji moaned quietly, finally breaking for air. Schuldich lapped at his throat, rubbing his hands up and down the back of Yoji’s thighs.

~We can’t do this.~

//We’re doing it.//

“N-No.”

“Shh.” Schuldich kissed Yoji’s chin and massaged the other man’s chest. He paused to pinch Yoji’s nipple, smiling when Yoji bit his lip. //I can’t wait any longer. I want you. I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.//

Yoji moaned, gripping his shoulders.

Schuldich lowered them to the floor, covering Yoji, settling swiftly between his hips. 

Yoji panted softly, trying not to make any noise, and Schuldich ground their cocks together. ~Stop it or I’ll come in my pants!~

//Come in them, then, I don’t care.//

~It's a rental tux!~

Schuldich chuckled, laving at Yoji’s ear. He unzipped the other man’s pants and rubbed the flat of his palm over Yoji’s cock. //You’re so hard, baby.//

Still panting, Yoji thrust up. His cheeks were stained pink, he breathed heavily, and his legs fell open. He looked like a slut, but since Schuldich knew he wasn’t, it was perhaps the sexiest thing Schuldich had ever seen in his life. 

He slithered down Yoji’s body and mouthed the cloth-covered erection. Yoji bucked up and Schuldich quickly pulled his pants down.

Yoji tried to cover himself. “No, no, don’t!” he whispered frantically, but Schuldich pulled his hands away.

Schuldich sucked him, using all his skills, until Yoji yanked on his hair and clawed at his shoulders. When the younger man came, Schuldich instinctively jammed his forearm in Yoji’s mouth, muffling the cry. 

He waited on all fours, trembling, as Yoji panted and struggled to open his eyes. Then, he took up Yoji’s hand and pressed it to his dick. 

Licking his lips, Yoji experimentally felt him, rubbing at an awkward angle. Schuldich pressed his hand flat and guided it up and down, up and down, breathing harshly. Eventually Yoji slapped his hand away and unzipped him. He pulled Schuldich’s hips forward and kissed his cock, and Schuldich had to close his eyes and will himself not to come. 

He pushed his underwear down and held his dick while Yoji licked it tentatively. 

//Suck me,// Schuldich half-demanded, half-begged. 

Yoji took him in halfway and bobbed up and down. Schuldich pressed his weight on his knuckles and only let his hips thrust forward a little. Eventually it got to be too much, and he lowered himself down to his elbows, ran his fingers down Yoji’s cheek, and fucked the other man’s mouth. 

He could tell Yoji was scared by it, didn’t like it, and good as it felt, he didn’t want it like that. So he pulled back, scooted down, and started jerking himself off overtop of Yoji. Yoji’s right hand joined his, and they stroked him together. 

He came in Yoji’s hand, pumping his hips forward, his eyes wild, breath caught. Yoji stared at him. He brought the man’s hand up and licked all the come up, and then, smiling wickedly, he kissed Yoji. 

Yoji strained against him for a moment, and then took it, slanting his mouth and kissing him deeply. ~Tastes strange . . .~

//God, you’re fucking sexy.//

Schuldich collapsed on Yoji and pinned him there for the rest of the show. He just lay there, totally unwilling to move. Yoji’s hand was in his hair, his arm draped casually over Schuldich's shoulder. He rested his head on Yoji’s chest and sighed. 

The music poured over them for another half-hour, and then, it was over. The lights came up.

With a lazy smile, Schuldich got up and adjusted his pants. Yoji stiffly did the same. Grinning, Schuldich backed him up against the wall and kissed him again. 

“Guh.” Yoji squirmed. “God, Schuldich.”

“Schu,” he corrected, nipping at the corner of Yoji’s mouth. “Time to get you home before the coach turns into a pumpkin.”

Yoji blinked. “Huh?”

“I only paid for the concert. I’ve got to get you back, mores the pity.” He traced a finger down Yoji’s jaw. “Unless . . . you feel like taking the night off? You can come home with me.” He smirked.

“Well, you know,” Yoji said coolly, “the first rule in the whore handbook is to never give it away for free.”

Schuldich quirked an eyebrow and nodded. “See your point.” //You’re gonna cost me house and home.//

“Yeah. I’ll cry for you and your sports car.”

Schuldich shrugged, straightening Yoji’s tie. “Oh that? It’s not mine. I stole it. Have to give it back tonight too.” 

“God, Schu.” Yoji shook his head. “You’re so damned impossible!” he whispered.

"Why do you have to be so damned impossible?” Bradley asked, pushing Schuldich to the mattress. “It’s annoying!” And then a hard mouth on him . . .

For a moment, he hung suspended between the present and a cold, bitter memory.

“Schu?”

He snapped out of it. “Yeah. Right. Let’s get you back.” 

The drive home was quiet. Well, externally quiet. Internally, Yoji was obsessing over the fact that he and Schuldich had blown each other in the opera house, and that he’d had another man’s dick in his mouth, and if that made him gay or bi or just hot for Schuldich, and if Schuldich was going to expect sex from now on, and would there be a now on, or was that all Schuldich wanted from him?

//Christ, you worry too much.//

“Well excuse me. It’s my first time sleeping with the enemy.”

“Well, there was Noi.”

Sharp, bright pain. “Don’t ever go there again,” Yoji murmured.

Schuldich paused. Yoji was furious. “Che. Sorry.”

“Ever.”

//I got it. I’m sorry.//

Yoji folded his arms. 

Not really sure why he cared if the other man was upset or not, Schuldich nevertheless reached over and rubbed Yoji’s kneecap. “Stop over-thinking this,” he said quietly. “It’s very simple, Kudo. You work as a companion. I wanted a companion. We wanted to have sex and we did. End of story.”

Yoji sighed, closing his eyes and resting his head on the window. “Easy for you to say. You’ve never had sex for money.”

//Let’s not jump to conclusions, kitten.//

Yoji peered over at him, curious. But he didn’t want to tell the other man that he’d been a street rat as a teenager and had whored not just for money, but for food and protection as well. That was the past. The old life. The life before Brad. The life with Brad was also the past. He was a totally different person now. Right?

Right?

“You don’t have to come in,” Yoji said. “You can just let me off here.”

Schuldich pulled over to the curb. Yoji was about to get out of the car when Schuldich stopped him, drawing him back to his seat. He wrapped a hand around the back of Yoji’s neck and kissed him, softly, gently. 

“I want to see you again,” he whispered.

Yoji frowned. “Why?”

//You’re under my skin, I guess.//

Yoji rolled his eyes. “It’s your money.”

“Well, technically—”

Yoji held up a hand. “I don’t wanna know.”

He chuckled. “Okay.” 

The other man was nervous. He didn’t know if he could trust anything Schuldich said. But at the same time, Schuldich had just given him the best night he’d had in almost half a year. To be totally honest, since Asuka. Yoji wanted to believe in that, because Yoji was a hero. A White Knight. Schuldich could read it in him, plain as he could read an open book.

“Any time you wanna make some real money, Yo-tan, why don’t you let me hire you for a night or two? Show you what you’re missing?”

Yoji pulled away, smiling slightly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I . . . I’ll think about it.”

Schuldich was a little shocked. //You do that.//

He waited until Yoji was inside Tarot, then put the car in drive and peeled out.


	3. Chapter 3

Yoji was half out of it for the rest of the evening. He remembered Schuldich as heat and hardness—the citrus taste of skin; the flush. The dark, cramped space. The low notes of the clarinet . . . his own moaning.

It wasn’t what he’d expected. It was harsh and fast, dizzying, really, but also tender, in a way. Tenderness in Schuldich surprised him. He’d always thought of the German as scathing and cruel. And he was. But he was also . . . pleasure . . . and honesty . . . and the lucid sensation of music on his naked body.

Yoji would always remember Schuldich in terms of jazz.

He went home and checked his messages—shocked to find he actually had one. Omi had called. The young man sounded a little down, so Yoji decided to call him, even at this late hour.

“Hello?”

Of course Omi was still up, probably studying. 

“Omi-tachi. S’up?”

“Yoji-kun!” Omi brightened. “I’m so glad to hear your voice . . .”

“Ditto, kiddo.”

It took a while, almost ten minutes of pointless chit-chat, before Yoji got Omi to ’fess up. The boy never did like talking about his own problems, but it was clear something was bothering him. Yoji wasn’t one to normally press, but . . .

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Omi reassured. “Just . . . my scholarship fund dried up. The pharmaceutical company went under and . . . I’ll . . . I’ll try to get a part-time job, take out loans—”

“You can’t work and study medicine; you’ll never sleep!” Yoji cut in. “Besides, you can’t get loans, you don’t have a credit history. In fact, Kritiker made it so that none of us have any history at all.”

“I know that,” Omi said softly. “But I can’t just give up. This is my d-dream . . .”

A pause. “Well, of course not. We’ll think of something, Omi. I’ll find a way.”

“Yoji-kun . . .”

“No. Look. We all made a promise. If there’s trouble, we’ll take care of each other. I’ll find a way to get you your money.”

Omi sighed. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but—”

“What? How expensive can it be?”

“Five million, six hundred and eighteen thousand, five hundred yen.”

Yoji froze.

“Per semester.”

He swallowed thickly. “Let me do the math . . . Right. Yeah . . . Carry the two . . .” That added up to a lot of clients. “I guess we could go back to killing for money.”

“Yoji.” Omi’s disappointment was palpable. “That’s not funny.”

“I know.” ~Well, Schuldich would have found it funny, but then Schuldich was fucked in the head.~ “Sorry.”

Omi sighed again. “Maybe I’ll have to take a few years off, get a job . . .”

It would take too long; Omi would lose his drive, get ground down. The boy had passion and smarts—Yoji couldn’t really claim either, but he was determined that Omi would get his degree.

“Omi, you just keep your head on your homework and leave the money woes to me,” he said, looking around his squalid apartment. Why was he making this ridiculous promise? Well, at least it was something—a goal, a purpose (doomed to fail, of course, but that’s how he liked it.) Something to make his struggle to keep breathing in and out day after day seem meaningful. “Before you know it, you’ll have one of those pins with the stick and the snakes on it.”

“The caduceus?” Omi laughed. “If you say so. Anyway, Yoji-kun, what are you doing up so late? Do party-planners actually have to go to the parties? Or was there another beautiful lady tonight?”

Orange hair spilling over his cheeks, his shoulders. Long fingers wrapped around his cock. Breath in his ear. Tongue mapping him . . .

He cleared his throat. “Wouldn’t you like to know, my young, innocent friend? Bwuahahaha!” he forced out.

“Yoji!”

He switched the phone to his other ear and said, “Look. Give me a few days to figure all this out. I’ll call you back when I have a plan. Okay?”

“Okay,” Omi murmured, but he didn’t quite sound convinced. 

“Call you back soon, bishounen. Get to bed.”

“Good night, Yoji-kun.”

Yoji hung up, then immediately hit speed dial. He did it right away, before he had a chance to chicken out. 

“Tarot.”

“Hey, it’s Yoji. Put me through to Masa?”

“Sure thing.”

The seconds ticked by; Yoji tried hard to ignore the grating muzak. His stomach tightened. 

“Yoji?” Masa answered warmly.

“Hi. Sorry to call so late. Or early, actually.”

“What can I do for you, Diva?”

Yoji grimaced. “I’m gonna need some more business. Like, a lot more business.”

Masa paused. “You already hold one of the best tables, five nights a week.”

“No, I know. I’m saying . . . I need, like, more business on top of that.”

“Yoji, you’re not in some kinda trouble, are you?”

“No, no, no, I just . . . I have my eye on a prize, you could say, and I want some more cash, is all.”

Masa grunted. “What did you have in mind?”

He swallowed. “You know that new guy, the foreigner that took me out tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Well . . . If he calls again . . . and wants to reserve a room next door . . . tell him I said yes.”

Masa’s surprise registered as silence.

“Understand,” Yoji said quickly, “I won’t accept overnight meetings out of Tarot. But . . . but the hotel . . .”

Next door to the host club was a love hotel. Tarot, like many of the older buildings, had a connecting stairwell to the building next door. Masa often set up reservations for guests who officially had “too much to drink.” Unofficially, that was code for renting a host for the night. 

“Are you sure, Yoji?”

He smirked. ~Hell no.~ “Yes. It makes good money, right?”

“Two hundred thousand yen a night. You know I split everything with you boys, fifty-fifty.”

“You’re a good man.” Yoji held the edge of the countertop, bracing himself, the phone balanced between his shoulder and his ear. He was gonna be sick. That was a ridiculous amount of money for one night with a whore.

But it would earn him one hundred thousand a night. ~Great. Now I just have to sleep with Schuldich fifty times a year. For eight years.~ He sighed. ~I’m in hell. And I put myself there.~

“What about other clients? You’ve had many offers besides—”

“No!” He covered his mouth for a moment and took a deep breath. “No. Just him. Just for now. I—I’m not sure I’ll want to . . . Masa, I’m honestly not sure about this but . . .”

Masa was quiet for a moment. “I assume you’ve had sex before.”

“Plenty,” Yoji said curtly. ~Never with a guy, though.~ He’d have to do some research. 

“You could get training, if you wanted, Yoji. Refresh your techniques. I have a boy or two that could give you a crash course if you are uncomfortable about bedding a stranger. You get over it fast, I assure you.”

Yoji rubbed his temple. Should he take some sort of lessons? He knew what he liked. Schuldich would probably be very critical no matter what he did. Yoji did need the money and if he didn’t keep Schuldich happy, he’d have to start taking on total strangers . . . Not that his clients weren’t attractive, many of them were, but . . . 

“It’s not that I doubt your skills, of course, my diva. But sometimes it can be . . . awkward, unnatural. You are selling a fantasy, after all. How good of an actor are you?”

He’d bedded dozens of women and dated hundreds. Sleeping with a stranger was not a problem. Pretending he was attracted to them, getting erect, having sex with another man . . . so far, he’d only ever reacted to Schuldich. ~That’s so fucked up.~

He made a mental note to get to the library and take out some books like Gay Kama Sutra and other stuff so that he could at least get the mechanics right. ~God, am I really doing this?~

Schuldich was gonna laugh at him.

“Yoji?”

“No, I’m good. It’ll be a cake-walk,” he lied. 

Masa laughed. “It just so happens that your foreigner left his phone number with me last time. He’s at the Omni Hotel a few miles west. I could call there, but I wouldn’t want you to appear over-eager for business—that always comes off like begging.”

“He’ll call again, Boss. I’m pretty sure of it.” Yoji clutched his stomach—he was suddenly nauseated. He needed a cigarette.

“Ho, ho,” Masa chuckled. “That’s my boy.” He could hear the other man’s smile. 

“Yeah. Well. Let me know. I’m gonna crash now,” Yoji murmured tiredly.

“Will do. Get your beauty sleep, Diva.”

Click.

And just like that, Yoji had made himself a whore.

~*~

Schuldich was ridiculous excited. He’d spent all week trying to think up a way to get Yoji out of Tarot and into bed with him, and lo and behold, when he’d called the club owner, he’d had himself a reservation at the hotel next door in under a minute.

Several things about that surprised him. First off, he knew Kudo was easy, but one rushed blow job in a theatre box didn’t seem like impetus enough to turn him gay. Second, the love hotel next door wasn’t bad, in that, it wasn’t seedy, but he didn’t envision his first time with Yoji in a place like that. And third, there was that whole mortal enemies thing.

In his fantasies, Schuldich had pictured the blond spread across his king-sized bed, fisting his silk sheets, and screaming his name overtop of the music on the stereo. Afterward they could drink chilled champagne from each other’s mouths and fuck like dogs on the plush carpet. What? He could be romantic.

Something was up with Balinese, he was pretty certain, but that just piqued his curiosity and made him anxious for eight o’clock to roll around. 

He’d dressed simply—black slacks, white button-down shirt, black tie casually draped down either side of his neck. He tucked his hair behind his ears and grabbed his keys. Yoji probably wouldn’t care if he got there a little early. 

Actually, Yoji seemed a little relieved. When Schuldich walked into Tarot—dramatically parting both doors and sauntering over to table twelve like he owned the place—he could immediately sense Yoji’s relief. Strange. 

He quirked an eyebrow. //Miss me?//

Yoji parted his lips and looked Schuldich up and down. ~Yes.~

That broke Schuldich’s confident stride. “Yoji?”

“Our room is ready,” Yoji said quietly, standing up as Schuldich reached the table. “Unless you’d like to stay for a drink?”

“Champagne. Bottle.” He stood there, frowning, as Yoji summoned Jun and placed their order. The kid brought the bottle back in moments—not quite chilled, but it would do—and Yoji flicked his gaze to the back door. 

“Shall we?” the younger man asked.

Schuldich put his hand on Yoji’s lower back and guided him across the dance floor. //Didn’t think you’d be this eager, Kudo.//

Yoji smiled at him from over his shoulder. It didn’t quite reach his eyes.

This disturbed Schuldich. More than it should.

The backstairs were small and narrow, poorly lit and a little dingy. They crossed over into the love hotel, but they didn’t have to check in, since Yoji already had the key.

Subtly, Schuldich did a quick sweep of Yoji’s mind. He was nervous, depressed, determined, confused . . . the emotions were easy to read. His thoughts, however, were behind that damned castle wall.

Yoji motioned Schuldich into the elevator and pressed the second floor. 

He leaned over, crowded Yoji against the wall. “What gives?”

“Hm?” Yoji said, making himself a little smaller.

“You’ve got your defenses up. Why?” Schuldich narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like going to bed with someone walled off. He’d gotten used to it with Brad, but that was Brad. If Crawford ever totally let Schuldich in, his gift probably would have driven Schuldich mad within moments. 

“Sorry,” Yoji murmured huskily, turning to face him. “It’s been a while.” He licked his lips and moved closer. “I guess I’m a little nervous.”

That wasn’t it, not entirely, but Schuldich couldn’t call him on it, because Schuldich couldn’t read him. “Uh huh.”

Ding ding.

The elevator opened and Yoji led him to room 229. It had a dresser, a lamp, a clock, and a bed. On one wall was a large window, on the other, a large mirror. There was a bathroom with a small shower. That was it. Oh, and everything was pink.

“Che.”

Yoji’s shoulders hunched over slightly. He went over to the bed and toed off his shoes. Then he turned around. “Should I undress? Or do you want to . . .?”

“Get on the bed,” Schuldich ordered. 

Swallowing, Yoji did. 

Schuldich put the champagne down on the dresser and slinked across the mattress until he towered over Yoji. Then he lowered his face until their lips almost touched. But he didn’t kiss Yoji, he just held still, waiting.

Yoji inched up. Schuldich inched back. This repeated until Yoji was practically sitting up. “What’s the deal, Schuldich?”

“Rule number one: you gotta meet me halfway. What’s up with the perfunctory attitude?”

Yoji bristled. “This is my job. You want to fuck me; I want your money. You weren’t expecting me to play into some romantic fantasy, were you?” The younger man fell back to the bed, his hand fluttering to his heart, batting his eyelashes. “Or did you want me to beg you to take me, Schuldich? Tell you how good you are? Swear undying love?”

He quirked an eyebrow and snickered. “Have it your way, but you will beg me before the night is over.”

~To stop, maybe.~

Ah ha! A thought leaked through. Chinks in the armor. Not surprising, considering Yoji had never been trained to shield himself. Interesting.

He nuzzled the other man’s cheek, kissed his jaw. “You smell good.”

Yoji said nothing, but his hands tangled in Schuldich’s hair. ~I like his hair. It’s soft.~

Smiling, Schuldich sucked on Yoji’s neck and lowered a bit of his weight down. They traded kisses, but Yoji never loosened up, never relaxed, no matter how gentle Schuldich was. 

It was infuriating. 

//Dammit, Kudo. Open up.// Schuldich pulled Yoji up off the bed and plundered his mouth, breaking through his mental barrier at the same time.

It coursed over him quickly, and it was messy. Omi needed money for school; Yoji had actually researched gay sex; and he hated himself for sleeping with Schwartz for money. It was sickening.

Schuldich pulled back, eyes wide. He was tempted, very, very tempted, to scream his head off. But Yoji looked so lost . . . so . . . much like he did, his first time.

“Do you want me to go?” he asked quietly.

Yoji opened his mouth.

“I’ll still pay,” Schuldich assured, though why, he couldn’t say.

“What?” Yoji asked.

“It’s obvious you don’t want this, and I’m not a rapist. Not today, anyway.” Schuldich folded his arms. “And by the way, if you’re going to whore yourself for Omi’s college education, why don’t you just steal the money from some organized crime boss or something? There are other lines to cross besides this one.”

Yoji grimaced. “Would you stop invading my mind?”

“No!” Schuldich said, spreading his hands wide. “Maybe you should be a little more honest, and then I wouldn’t have to!”

The blond rubbed his temple. “I can’t believe we’re fighting like a married couple. Schuldich, do you want to fuck or not?”

He took Yoji’s wrist and guided that long hand to cup his erection. “Yes,” he hissed. “But not like this. I don’t fuck martyrs, especially not sacrificial virgins.”

Yoji shot up on the bed. “I’m not a fucking martyr. I made a promise . . . You know what? It’s pointless. That’s something you would never understand.”

Oh, he understood promises, all right. He’d even kept a few. Bradley’s trust had been hard won . . .

Schuldich softened. “You’re really crap at being a whore,” he said affectionately.

“Um . . . Thank you.” Yoji frowned.

Smiling, Schuldich tackled Yoji to the bed. The younger man yelped and clung to him. 

“What are you . . . ?”

“How ’bout a deal, Kudo? Since this is your first time,” he smiled, enjoying Yoji’s reddening cheeks, “I’ll take the lead. Anything I do to you that you don’t like, I’ll stop. And you can’t fake it, because, hey, telepath.” He tapped his temple. “We only do what feels good. Like at the theatre. Sound fair?”

Yoji relaxed a bit. “Like at the theatre . . . ?”

“Yeah.” He kissed Yoji’s forehead, his nose. “Just like that. There’s lots of stuff we can do . . . Stuff I can teach you,” he whispered. 

Yoji shivered. “And if I don’t like it . . .”

“You’re in control here.” He laved at Yoji’s neck. “I’ll be your slave. You tell me what you want me to do to you,” he breathed, “whatever makes you feel good, baby. I’ll do it.”

“O-oh,” Yoji moaned, as Schuldich flushed their bodies together. He gripped Schuldich’s shoulders. “O . . . Okay.”

Smirking, he kissed Yoji gently. //I promise, only what you want.//

Finally, Yoji returned the kiss. He pulled Schuldich close and slanted his mouth and it was good. ~Okay.~

Schuldich went very, very slowly. They must have kissed for almost an hour. He stroked his hands over Yoji’s chest, petted his hair, and kept on kissing him. Yoji liked kissing (so did Schuldich, but Brad never really did, so, he’d gotten used to sex without much of it) and the younger man responded to his touch—moaning, sinking deeper into the mattress, his knees falling open, his hands grasping Schuldich’s hair.

He shifted his weight and slowly, very gently, began grinding their hips together. He could get drunk off of Yoji’s moans. //Spread your legs for me?//

Yoji did so immediately, and Schuldich settled in, grinding down.

“Ah . . . ah,” Yoji panted.

Schuldich sucked on his chin. “You have a gorgeous mouth, Yoji.”

The younger man said nothing, but he hesitantly reached up and removed Schuldich’s tie. 

Smiling, Schuldich took it from him and dropped it to the floor. //Maybe we’ll save tying you up for next time, eh?//

Yoji’s eyes widened.

“Kidding.” //A little.//

Yoji shook his head slightly and unbuttoned Schuldich’s shirt carefully, as if fascinated by the buttons. Schuldich sat up a little and let Yoji slowly push the material over his shoulders, down his arms, to his wrists. 

“If I said I wanted to tie you up, would you let me?” Yoji grumbled.

Schuldich stared at him sharply for a long time. “If that’s what you want,” he said evenly.

Yoji took up Schuldich’s right wrist and gently undid the cuffs, then unbuttoned the left, and helped pull the shirt off. ~Wow. He works out.~

“Not really.” He smiled. “I’ve always been wiry.”

Yoji’d given up telling Schuldich to stay out of his head, which was good, since it was a waste of time. 

“Can I take off your shirt too?” Schuldich asked, running a hand up and down Yoji’s pecs.

Yoji nodded weakly and shifted so that Schuldich could smooth his tight red sweater up and off. It was really hard not to pounce. Every movement he made was slow and controlled, almost ritualistic. He nuzzled Yoji’s chest, and kissed a trail down to a hard brown nipple.

He bit—Yoji chuckled—and then he sucked. 

Those long fingers were back in his hair. 

//Tell me when to stop,// Schuldich warned, raking his nails down Yoji’s belly. He smoothed his flat palm over the crotch of Yoji’s pants.

The blond sucked in a breath and hitched up. “O-oh.”

Schuldich could tell he liked it; wanted more, even, so he undid the fly and snuck his hand over Yoji’s underwear, rubbing him confidently.

Yoji tossed his head back and bent his legs, lifting his hips a little. 

Schuldich switched to the other nipple. //You should see yourself like this. You’re gorgeous.//

“Schu . . .” Yoji whispered.

Fuck. He loved when Yoji said his name like that.

Schuldich forced himself to sit back. He ran his hand down his neck, his chest, overtop his pants. He reached under the top of his slacks and stroked himself, moaning. //You make me so hard, Yoji.//

~Shit.~

Yoji reached out and undid Schuldich’s fly, then stopped, suddenly frowning. 

Schuldich froze, forcing himself to be patient.

Yoji looked up at him. ~I can’t believe I’m doing this.~

“You’re doing great,” Schuldich murmured, cupping Yoji’s face. “Just relax. Breathe.”

“I can’ believe you’re doing this.” ~Why is he being so kind?~

“I’m a bad guy,” Schuldich whispered against Yoji’s lips, “but I’m a very good bad guy.”

“Schu—”

He cut the blond off, kissing him deeply. A few more minutes of wet, sloppy kisses, and they were both out of their pants. That’s when Yoji got really nervous.

“Champagne,” Schuldich said suddenly. “Better drink it before it gets totally warm.” He popped open the bottle, let the fizz spray over onto the floor without so much as a spared glance, and drank right from the top. He cupped the back of Yoji’s neck and brought him up, forcing the man to drink from his mouth.

He didn’t stop until they’d shared almost half the bottle. 

Yoji, at least, was infinitely more relaxed after that. He didn’t protest when Schuldich took off his underwear and then removed his own. It was a dirty trick, but, he was a dirty, dirty man.

//You’re so fucking amazing. All the women you’ve had . . . how come you don’t know it?//

“I’m all right. No big deal, really.” Yoji unconsciously started petting Schuldich’s arm. Up and down, up and down. “Anyway, you’re not bad yourself.” 

Schuldich shook his head and settled back down, resting Yoji’s head in the crook of his elbow. “Yes, but I know that.”

Yoji giggled. He was flushed, both from their intense make-out session and the alcohol. His grin looked dopey. Sweet. 

“Are you having a good time so far?” Schuldich asked with hooded eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Ready for the big-kid stuff?”

Yoji swallowed and nodded. 

//I wanna suck you.//

Closing his eyes, Yoji nodded again. 

Schuldich slid down Yoji’s body and spread the man’s thighs. He used all his skill, teasing, nipping, licking—even scraping teeth over rigid flesh on occasion—until Yoji was clutching the pillows and groaning. 

~Make me come?~

//Just getting started, kitten.//

“G-God, Schu . . . ugh . . .”

//Just try this, okay?// Schuldich turned Yoji over, spread his cheeks, and delicately swiped the tip of his tongue around and around Yoji’s asshole. 

~Stop! STOP!~

Schuldich stopped, blinking. Yoji was seriously freaked out. “Yoji?”

“That’s disgusting.”

Smirking, Schuldich ran his finger up and down Yoji’s crack. “I believe in putting my mouth where my money is.” //Try it. You might like it. If you don’t after a minute, I’ll stop.//

“I thought you said you’d stop the minute I didn’t want it.”

“Listen, kitty cat. Rimming is an art form, much like cunnilingus. I assume you’re familiar with licking pussy, what with all the women you’ve had? I’m trying to teach you something here, and it will feel good. Give me one minute?”

Yoji lowered his head back to the pillow. ~Fine. One minute.~

In thirty seconds, Schuldich had Yoji wet and trembling. Forty-five seconds, and the man was spreading his ass cheeks with his own hands and moaning. After a minute, Yoji had one thought, and one thought only: ~Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.~

//You like it?//

~Gonna come.~

Schuldich playfully smacked Yoji’s ass. “Not yet.”

Surprise and pleasure rippled through their link. So, Yoji liked being spanked. Very interesting.

He pulled at Yoji’s pelvis until the man’s ass was high in the air, and then he kissed and bit at both cheeks. He draped himself over Yoji and cupped his bottom. “I’m going to spank you,” he said without any inflection or emotion. “And you’re going to take it. After five, I’m going to stop. And if you want more, you can order me to give you more. And if you don’t, I won’t.”

“What the—”

Thwack.

Schuldich was not gentle. He did not hold back. Yoji wouldn’t bruise, but the skin turned bright red and grew hot. 

Thwack.

“Ugh!”

Thwack.

“Schuld—”

Thwack.

“Oh God,” Yoji moaned.

Thwack. The last one was hard enough that the sound ricocheted off the walls. 

Yoji panted, his forehead touching the pillows. 

Schuldich waited. He knew, but it was important that Yoji admit it to himself.

“More,” Yoji said in a small voice.

Thwack. 

Thwack..

“Ah, yeah . . .”

The blond was so sexy like this—a mixture of siren and virgin, wanting and hesitant at the same time. 

Thwack.

//Touch yourself.//

Yoji’s hand reached down and he fisted his cock. Schuldich could only see his elbow jerking back and forth, rapidly. Too rapidly. 

//Stop before you come.//

Whining, Yoji slowed down, rubbing his thumb around the head of his dick. Schuldich could feel it, now that all his walls were gone.

“Good,” Schuldich breathed, smacking him again. 

“Schuldich?”

Schuldich had a very, very clear mental picture of what Yoji wanted. “Yes?”

Yoji thought harder at him and lifted his hips. 

“Say it.” Schuldich kissed his way up Yoji’s spine. “You have to ask for it and I’ll do it.”

Yoji swallowed and turned to look at Schuldich over his shoulder. He frowned a little, looking . . . very young. He whispered, “Fuck me?” so softly, Schuldich almost couldn’t hear it.

He ripped Yoji back by the hair and kissed him, hard. //Yes. Yes, baby.//

~Schu . . .~

“Hang on. Fuck. Hang on a second.” Schuldich forced himself off the bed and stumbled to the bathroom. Complimentary lotion was good enough. He hurried back before the blond bombshell sobered and suddenly remembered his heterosexuality or their past history. 

Yoji was staring at the window; he hadn’t moved. His emotions were indescribable. Schuldich felt strange, too. 

It was all very surreal.

He did his best to warm the lotion and mentally told Yoji to scoot over. He crawled under the younger man and brought Yoji down overtop him, then reached around and pushed one finger inside.

This way, he could watch when Yoji’s eyes widened; could kiss his forehead, when Yoji trembled and hung his head. 

//I know it feels weird. It gets better. Here’s two.// He pressed his fore and middle finger in. 

“Hn!” 

That was as much as Yoji could take for a while. So he just worked his two fingers in and out, in and out, scissoring them to stretch Yoji every once in a while.

“It feels . . . it’s . . .” Yoji shook his head. 

Oh, God, was he near tears? Schuldich could not handle tears.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” Yoji mumbled into the crook of Schuldich’s shoulder. “Just . . . hurry up and make it feel good already?”

He laughed, rubbing his other hand through Yoji’s hair. //You’re doing great, Kudo. Hang in there. Need more lotion.//

Yoji reached over to the dresser and handed the lotion to Schuldich impatiently. He didn’t bother warming it up. “Three now.”

As he slowly, carefully inserted three fingers, he sent Yoji image after image of the two of them, sweaty, naked, clinging to one another, thrashing against the bed. 

Yoji moaned, kissing him for the first time that night. He latched on to Schuldich’s lower lip and sucked. 

//Fuck, Kudo . . .// He pressed up, up, up, until the pads of his fingers found it—

“Aaah.” Yoji broke away, his back arching. He looked down at Schuldich in wonder. “That would be the prostate, then?”

Grinning, Schuldich nodded. “The male G-spot.”

“I didn’t believe it.”

Schuldich massaged that little nub again. 

“Oh!”

“Have more faith, kitten.” Schuldich leaned up and sucked on Yoji’s earlobe. He could sense Yoji’s pleasure; he let Yoji sense how much he wanted it too, and before long, the younger man rolled them over so that Schuldich was on top.

He opened his legs and began rubbing himself, playing with his nipples, licking his lips—it was raw sex, irresistible—and said, “Now, Schu.”

“Turn over,” Schuldich ground out.

~Want to see you.~

//Too painful for the first time.//

Yoji pouted. 

“How about a compromise? Lie on your side.”

Yoji did, and allowed Schuldich to push his right knee up to his chest. Schuldich spooned up behind him, a little bit overtop of him, and pushed the hair up off Yoji’s neck. He licked at the sweat there.

//I’m not gonna lie to you. This is gonna hurt. You can say stop.//

“I know,” Yoji said softly. 

Fair warning given, Schuldich positioned himself and thrust in. Inch by agonizing inch. He wanted to rut. He wanted to hold Yoji down and fuck him into next week. He wanted to be cruel and animalistic and snap his hips forward without thought. But he didn’t.

Because Schuldich could keep a promise too.

Yoji had a hard time with it. He broke out into a sweat, turned pale, got a little seasick, and spent a good few minutes blinking back tears. 

 

Once Schuldich was all the way in, he stopped, reached around, and stroked Yoji’s flagging erection. The full feeling, plus the expert stimulation, had Yoji hard again soon.

“How ya doing?” Schuldich asked quietly, kissing Yoji’s neck.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Do you want me to throw you down and hump you like a bitch?”

“No . . .”

“Then stop complaining.”

Yoji turned. “I wasn’t complaining. I just don’t understand.”

//If I told you that I wasn’t a vicious man by nature, would you believe me?//

“No.”

//Smart boy.// Schuldich withdrew and pumped in a little faster. 

“Why—?”

“Because this is the way I want to take you, Kudo, now shut up and let me fuck you,” Schuldich said, exasperated. He thrust in and out again, delighting when Yoji leaned back against him.

It took several more minutes for Yoji to unclench—a common mistake for virgins, usually resulting in a lot of unnecessary pain—and a bit more lotion to slick his way, and then Schuldich could move smoothly in and out. 

He concentrated on touching and kissing Yoji as much as he monitored his thrusts. Now, Yoji responded well to all of it; eventually he grabbed Schuldich by the hair and tugged him forward, then clutched at his ass to drive him deeper, then covered Schuldich’s hand to help to stroke his own erection. 

Schuldich turned Yoji toward the mattress, pressing his belly flat. Then he hitched Yoji’s hips up, got up on his knees, and started fucking continuously. 

Yoji moaned. Continuously. 

//You’re so tight, baby. Love it. Love it.//

~Yeah. It’s good. It’s good.~ Yoji actually sounded amazed. 

Schuldich ran his hands up and down over Yoji’s back, massaging him, relaxing him, but his touch was possessive, dominant, too. Yoji melted like butter. 

He spanked the younger man occasionally, sharing filthy little thoughts and images across their link. //I know you like it. I can feel myself fucking you. Spread wider for me, baby, bring me home. That’s it; give me everything. You’re so gorgeous. Yeah. Yeah . . .// He grunted, pounding harder.

Yoji whined and scratched his nails down the comforter, pushing back to meet Schuldich. ~Please, please, please . . .~

Grabbing a fistful of Yoji’s hair, he bent the younger man like a bow and slammed into him. The headboard banged against the pink, faded, stained wall. Yoji shouted his name over and over. 

He was close, so close. 

Hovering over Yoji, he reached around and jerked the man’s cock, staring at them in the mirror, sending Yoji the mental picture they made.

Yoji came, his head thrown back, his eyes squeezed shut. Schuldich hooked his chin over Yoji’s shoulder and humped in and out of the younger man—fast, fast, faster. Yoji clenched around him and he came, biting down hard on Yoji’s shoulder. 

They collapsed, breathing heavily. Schuldich couldn’t even mind-speak, because that was one of the best orgasms he’d ever had, probably because he and Yoji had been so intricately linked at the time. That, and Yoji was one sexy motherfucker. 

He stayed inside Yoji for as long as he could, then slipped out and checked the damage. //Not too bad. You’ll be sore tomorrow.//

“I’m sore now, jackass,” Yoji mumbled affectionately. 

He smirked and flopped over on his back. “Yoji.”

“What?” Yoji grumbled into the pillow.

Schuldich said nothing and eventually Yoji shot him a questioning look.

He opened his arms. “Standard post operating procedure for losing your virginity is cuddling. Cuddling is very, very important. I read that in ‘Cosmo.’ ”

“Jackass.” 

Schuldich pulled a less than enthusiastic blond into his arms and stroked two fingers up and down his back. //I’m actually impressed, Kudo. You did really well.//

Yoji was contented. And sleepy.

“Rest. We’ve got all night.”

That had Yoji cracking open an eye. “You want more?”

Schuldich waggled his eyebrows. “Can I help it if you’re just that sexy? Besides, you cost the equivalent of two thousand dollars a night, roughly. I expect more bang for my buck.”

Yoji frowned.

Shit. He should not have mentioned money. Quickly, he kissed Yoji’s forehead and stroked his hair. “Rest, baby. I know I’ll want you again.”

Yoji didn’t say anything, and eventually he closed his eyes. Schuldich watched him while he dozed. 

It scared him . . . how much he wanted to keep Yoji in his arms.

~*~

Yoji woke up in the middle of the night. Schuldich eased a glass of water to his lips and made him drink. He was sore. Everything was sore, but most especially his ass was killing him.

Schuldich winced. “Yeah. I tried going easy on you, kitten. Sorry.”

He shrugged. “It’s not as bad as I expected.”

“You have to clean yourself out really good, you know. Tearing in that area can lead to infection.” Schuldich shuddered like he was speaking from experience or something. “In fact, why don’t we take a shower?”

Yoji raised his eyebrows. “Um . . . Sure, why not?” He could use a hot shower, get a chance to pull his thoughts together . . .

//I’ll go start the water.//

Yoji waited for a few seconds. The clock said one sixteen a.m. The hotel made them check out by seven the next day, or else it counted as another reservation. Was Schuldich serious when he said he wanted to go again? Or would they shower and leave soon? He was tired, but at the same time, felt oddly energized. Like beneath his skin, he was expanding out, floating, slipping away, if he let himself think too much about what had happened . . . 

//Water’s ready. Come on in.//

~Together?~

//I thought the Japanese were used to taking public baths?//

Knowing it was pointless to argue, Yoji got up, padded to the bathroom, and drew back the shower door.

It was a small cramped space, but he didn’t care, because damn, Schuldich looked good wet.

“Thank you,” Schuldich drawled. 

He pulled Yoji in and shut the glass door. Steam rolled around them. The water felt good, relaxed his muscles. And Schuldich’s hands felt good on him too, the way they pulled him forward, tangled in his wet hair, smoothed down his ass.

His still-tender ass.

Schuldich grinned.

“You’re not the least bit sorry, are you?” Yoji murmured.

A full-on smile. “Can’t say I have any regrets, no.”

Sighing, Yoji leaned into the spray, just resting his head on Schuldich’s chest. It was nice. Like they were hugging. Schuldich pivoted them slowly in a circle, so that they could share the water. Then he stopped, and the spray ran down Yoji’s back.

He parted Yoji’s cheeks and fingered him.

“Ah, ah . . .”

//Gotta clean you out. Much as I love the idea of my come in your ass all day . . .//

Yoji shivered and leaned closer. He was embarrassed, but Schuldich was making him hard again. That finger was starting to feel really good.

“Ho, ho,” Schuldich chuckled, kissing his temple. //Wanna make you feel good.//

Yoji splayed his hands on the tiles and panted when Schuldich added another finger and plunged in deep. He reached up and held Schuldich’s face still, kissing him fiercely. 

Schuldich stepped out of the way and threw him up against the wall, pulling his hips back and knocking his feet apart. Then the German thrust back inside him, hard, demanding, panting in his ear.

He didn’t even try to keep it quiet, his grunts and groans echoing around the bathroom. “’S’good. Schu . . . good . . . . oh . . .”

Schuldich grunted as well, only his hips moving, rocking them both forward. Every once in a while, he ran his hands up and down Yoji’s ribs, but mostly he held Yoji’s hips still and fucked him. 

It felt so good to be fucked. He’d had no idea.

Yoji wished there was enough room that he could get down on all fours and let Schuldich have at him like a dog.

Schuldich must have picked up on that thought, because he flattened Yoji against the wall and bit down on his neck, fucking up so that Yoji had to stand on his tiptoes. 

//Want you, want you, want you,// was all that Schuldich sent him.

He reached back, bending his arms at the elbows, and tangled his hands in Schuldich’s long, wet hair. Yoji turned his head for a kiss, and Schuldich didn’t disappoint.

They were on fire. It was crazy. Yoji had had some great sex in his life—great sex, sex involving twins and toys and really fucked up scenarios, tantric sex that lasted for hours, he’d almost been in an orgy once, at college. But this? 

This was . . . fantastic.

Groaning, Schuldich stumbled backward until he was up against the wall and Yoji was once again under the spray. He forced Yoji’s hips back, made him fuck himself on Schuldich’s cock, and then he bent Yoji over as far as the shower would allow, and drilled into him. 

~Fuck, fuck, oh God, oh yeah, ah fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck . . .~

//Come. Right now,// Schuldich commanded.

Yoji came. He came lots. He came all over his chest, the wall. He came crying, because it was so good. 

Schuldich was feeding off his pleasure, he could sense that slight weight in the back of his mind, and then the German yanked him back by the hair and bit down on his shoulder again, coming deep in his ass.

~You have a shoulder-biting thing.~

//Have to keep quiet. Brad doesn’t like it when I . . .// Schuldich trailed off, panting.

Yoji reeled. “You and Crawford?”

Schuldich pulled out sharply. He could have said that as housemates or something, Crawford didn’t like to hear Schuldich having sex with other people, but they would both know it was a lie.

“Yes, kitten. Crawford and I. For a long time.”

The first thing Yoji could think to say was, “I’m sorry. Sorry he didn’t make it, I mean.”

Schuldich looked at him funny. The water started turning cold. “No, you’re not.”

Yoji frowned. “Well. No. I’m not. But I mean, I’m sorry you lost him.”

The German shrugged awkwardly. 

~That’s why you’re so lonely.~

Schuldich’s eyes took on a dangerous glint. He backed Yoji up against the wall just with his look. “Don’t you dare start pitying me. And don’t romanticize me, either. I’m the big bad wolf, Kudo, and I don’t apologize for it.”

Yoji swallowed. After tonight, he wasn’t scared of Schuldich in the least. And that scared him.

“You’re a fucking headache,” Schuldich murmured, spinning Yoji around and fingering his ass again. 

It was humiliating, having Schuldich clean him out this way, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say and at least he didn’t have to face the man while they did this. It felt odd; the soap burned and he could feel warm liquid rush out of him. It wasn’t like going to the bathroom, but, it wasn’t like anything else, either. 

Schuldich patted his head. “Almost done.”

Yoji just nodded, tired. He let Schuldich do all the work, rinsing them both, toweling them off, and herding Yoji to the bed. 

The older man pulled the soiled comforter off and slid between the sheets.

~More cuddling?~

Schuldich pointed to the glass. “Drink. Don’t get dehydrated.”

Yoji rolled his eyes but drank, then tumbled onto the mattress. 

It was mere seconds before Schuldich spooned up against him, warming his skin, making him sigh. A wiry forearm draped across his waist and he scooted back. It just felt right. Instinctually, it felt right. No logic to it. It’s the like the real world had been put on hold, and in this moment, in this place, in this fantasy, they were lovers. 

//Rest, Kudo.//

Yoji slept.

When next he woke, it was six, and Schuldich was zipping up his black slacks. His shirt hung open; he was biting his lip as he buttoned his fly. Then he just stood there.

Yoji watched him for a long time. Their eyes met in the mirror. He sat up, dangling his feet off the bed, and hooked two fingers over Schuldich’s belt loop. He spun the other man around and pulled him close, resting his head on Schuldich’s belly.

Schuldich’s fingers threaded into his wild hair and held him tight. “Have to go soon,” he murmured.

Yoji kissed Schuldich’s sculpted abdomen and nodded. 

The German sighed. “Ah, fuck, Yoji.” He pushed Yoji back on the bed and covered him, kissing him. 

Yoji clung, wrapping his arms around Schuldich’s shoulders. As the kiss deepened, he gripped Schuldich’s ass and rocked him forward in a lazy rhythm. ~I want you again,~ Yoji whispered into Schuldich’s mind.

Schuldich broke the kiss and undid his pants. Yoji sneaked his hand inside and rubbed Schuldich until he was hard and pulsing. The other man came up on all fours and pushed his pants and underwear down over his hips. 

Yoji slid down the side of the bed and pulled Schuldich up, then took Schuldich’s cock into his mouth. 

“Ugh,” Schuldich groaned, arching. He slowly fucked in and out of Yoji’s mouth for several minutes.

Yoji fisted himself, getting really turned on because Schuldich had opened their link both ways, so he could feel how good it was to fuck his own mouth. 

Abruptly, Schuldich pulled out and turned around, so that they formed a sixty-nine. He bobbed on Yoji’s prick, and they took their time, pleasuring each other, sensing each other . . . it was amazing, the connection . . . 

For once, Schuldich came first, not with a shout, but a whimper. He recovered quickly and worked Yoji until he came too—~Third time in nine hours; God, I’m raw~—softly calling Schuldich’s name.

Schuldich rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. He looked sad. 

Yoji curled in, resting his head on the German’s stomach for a while, just breathing. Then he crawled up and leaned over Schuldich, kissing him softly. Sweetly.

They traded kisses until the clock showed six fifty-five, and then Schuldich sighed, zipped up his pants, and stood. 

He stared down at Yoji, who lay there, spread, exhausted, and actually content, and shook his head. He never took his eyes off of Yoji, even as he buttoned up his shirt, slipped into his shoes, and draped his tie over his shoulders. 

Yoji just watched him, strangely disappointed to see the night was over.

“Hey, Yoji?” Schuldich suddenly said, breaking the silence. “I’d like to tell you that you’re worth every cent, but that would be a lie.”

Yoji’s face darkened as Schuldich reached for the doorknob. //You’re fucking priceless. Don’t you ever forget that.//

Winking, Schuldich spun around and walked out.

The door snicked shut, and Yoji lay there, blinking.

At six fifty-nine, the room was empty, but the sheets were still warm.


	4. Chapter 4

Yoji lounged over two and a half seats as he rode the subway to Tarot. He was in a bit of a daze. He’d forgotten to eat dinner again, but then, he’d had a lot on his mind. First of all, he’d gotten his paycheck yesterday. It was for three times his normal amount. 

He’d called Omi, elated, and said that he’d picked up an extra job that wasn’t too bad, and insisted the boy take his money until he could get another scholarship. Reluctantly, Omi agreed to set up an extra bank account so that Yoji could deposit the funds directly. (This was Yoji’s idea, because he loved Omi dearly, but having that much money stare him in the face when he couldn’t even afford curtains was just too tempting.)

Second, Masa had called to inform him that Schuldich had bought his companionship again. This time, for an entire weekend. Masa warned him not to let this new client interfere with his old business, and not to let it seem like Yoji had favorites. Yoji murmured a noncommittal answer and tried not to let himself get too excited about the prospect of being with Schuldich for a full forty-eight hours. Because that would just be wrong. Sick and wrong, wrong, wrong.

Thirdly? He couldn’t stop thinking about sleeping with Schuldich. It had been so ridiculously good. Maybe it was because he knew that the German was dangerous, even borderline insane; that a former Weiss having an affair with a former Schwartz was beyond taboo. Maybe it was because Schuldich was an excellent lover (being telepathic certainly helped.) Maybe it was because Yoji hadn’t had sex in a really, really long time. Maybe all three. Whatever the reasons, his dick got hard just thinking about their last encounter. 

The way Schuldich could both give and take, command and obey . . . the way he knew exactly what Yoji had wanted . . . and that little scene in the shower. Fuck. ~He’s like an addiction. I should stop.~

But he didn’t stop. He got to Tarot early, checked himself over in the mirror—green see-through tunic and ripped jeans again—added some eyeliner, and sighed. ~Good enough. Probably.~

Yoji could sense the minute Schuldich walked in the door. They didn’t even speak. The German just followed him to the backstairs. But as Yoji twisted the knob to the love hotel, Schuldich put a hand up and held the door closed. 

“Look, if you really wanna do this in that pink romper room again, fine. But I’ve got a much better place not too far from here. And I have . . . stuff . . . there, that will make it better. What do you say?”

Yoji turned around slowly.

//Trust me that far, kitten?//

Well. Schuldich had had ample time to kill him and dozens of opportunities to hurt him. And Yoji didn’t really like the love hotel—it made him feel cheap.

“You are certainly not cheap.” Schuldich grinned. He leaned forward and kissed Yoji on the cheek. “Let me take you home,” he whispered. “Do this right.”

Yoji sighed and nodded. 

Schuldich grabbed his hand, led him through the love hotel, out the lobby doors, and to the garage where his car was parked—this time, a yellow corvette. 

~Do I want to know?~

//Nope.//

~Okay then.~

Schuldich grinned, put the car in gear, and sped out of the lot. He reached over and covered Yoji’s hand with his own, putting his palm over the stick shift. Schuldich’s hand was warm. Comforting. 

“Music?” Yoji asked.

Schuldich nodded and so Yoji turned on the radio. They didn’t talk, but Schuldich stroked the back of Yoji’s hand with his thumb and that got him hard.

The Omni hotel was expensive. Marble. Everywhere. Plush red carpets. There was even a grand piano in the waiting lobby, a vase of huge tea roses resting on top. 

“Shoduriku-san,” the concierge said as they passed the front desk.

Schuldich grimaced. “Yeah?”

“The maids are just now finishing up your room. If you wouldn’t mind waiting, it should only be a few minutes. I apologize for the delay.” The man bowed.

Schuldich quirked an eyebrow. “Okay.” He motioned for Yoji to sit in the lobby. “Tell them to leave an extra set of sheets,” he tossed over his shoulder.

Without blinking, the concierge nodded and picked up the phone. 

~Don’t you ever get embarrassed? About anything?~

“Nope. Sit down, kitten. Take a load off.” 

Yoji sat in one of the marshmellowy-cushioned armchairs, but Schuldich perched on the piano bench and slowly lifted the lid. He stroked the backs of his fingers lovingly over the keys.

Frowning, Yoji sat forward. ~Can you . . . play something? For me?~

Schuldich looked up, surprised. Concentrating, he held down the middle C. He took a deep breath, and then began to play.

It was a slow song. Relatively simple. Yoji didn’t recognize it. It was kind of haunting. Schuldich closed his eyes, bowed his head, and leaned into the music. His right foot tapped out the time. He smiled. It was pretty. Several patrons stopped to listen.

Inwardly, Yoji was enchanted. There was a lot more to Schuldich than he would have guessed. (This at least explained his spark of interest in the Jazz Festival.) Outwardly, Yoji just smiled and closed his eyes. 

The last note seemed to hang in the air forever. When he opened his eyes, Schuldich was looking at him funny. He didn’t have to say that he’d enjoyed it, because Schuldich could undoubtedly tell.

“Your room is ready, Shoduriku-san,” the concierge said softly.

Schuldich nodded. “I trust we won’t be further disturbed.”

“Understood, sir.”

Yoji followed the German to the elevator. The minute the doors closed, Schuldich backed him into the corner, splayed his hands on either wall, and nuzzled Yoji’s jaw. He brushed the tip of his nose lightly up and down Yoji’s cheek.

Yoji sighed and closed his eyes. He rested his curled fists on Schuldich’s hips. 

//You been thinking of me?//

Why lie to a telepath? ~Yeah.~

“Me too,” Schuldich whispered, nuzzling him again. Yoji tilted his head back, letting Schuldich kiss his neck.

The elevator stopped at the top floor and opened to the executive suite. Schuldich inserted his key card and held the door open for Yoji.

Once inside, he stopped and blinked. Schuldich was living in style. Compared to his own apartment, he felt like a pauper visiting a prince.

Schuldich laughed. “You live in a hole. You wouldn’t have to, if you kept your money for yourself.”

Yoji turned to face him, toeing off his shoes out of habit. “Better things to spend my money on than me.” He shrugged.

Schuldich just shook his head. //White fucking Knight.// “Come here and kiss me.”

He stalked over to Schuldich, pushed him back against the door, and kissed him, hard. He sucked on the man’s lips until he had the German moaning. 

//Christ, what have I done to you? Where’s my shy little virgin?//

~Always did like sex, Schu. Did you . . . did you want me to be more reserved?~

Schuldich cupped his face. “I want you to be you.”

Yoji sighed again. He’d been doing a lot of that lately.

The older man walked him backward, kissing him softly. Yoji started pulling up Schuldich’s top, tugging impatiently for Schuldich to break the kiss. Eventually, Schuldich complied, but only for a second. 

He lowered Yoji to the couch and settled between his legs. Yoji wound his arms around Schuldich’s shoulders and played with his hair. 

They kissed and clutched at each other for a long time. Every once in a while, Schuldich would tease Yoji by grinding down, jabbing his stiff prick into Yoji’s hipbone. Yoji flushed and panted. 

Schuldich stopped, hovering over him for a moment. 

“What?”

//Nothing. I just . . .// He got up and went to the stereo. Yoji watched him, standing there, half-naked in the moonlight, as he fiddled with the buttons from memory. Suddenly, there was jazz, smooth like a bolt of silk, coming out of overhead speakers, all over the suite. “There.” Schuldich turned to him. “Bedroom?”

Yoji nodded and got up off the couch. He let Schuldich drag him by his belt buckle into the bedroom—the king-size bed was huge and crammed with fluffy pillows, made up with what looked like satin sheets. “Hedonist,” Yoji accused.

“Damn right.” Schuldich unbuckled Yoji’s belt. “Face the bed. Elbows only.”

Swallowing, Yoji leaned his weight on his forearms and waited.

He wasn’t expecting it.

Schuldich whipped him with his belt, licking a hot trail over his jean-covered ass. It didn’t hurt, but it was sharp. He gasped. 

The German kissed the back of his neck. “Count,” he whispered.

“O-One,” Yoji eventually ground out.

Another blow, this time on the other cheek. 

“Ah. Two.”

“Good kitty,” Schuldich murmured, kissing the second notch in Yoji’s spine.

Fwiiiph.

“Three,” he said, his dick straining against his pants.

Schuldich kissed the next notch, just a breath lower. The older man kept whipping him through his jeans, until he reached the base of Yoji’s spine. Then he kissed Yoji’s ass and ran his hands up and down Yoji’s trembling thighs. 

“Thirty four,” he barely managed. 

Schuldich reached a hand between his legs and stroked his crotch. “I’m very impressed,” the German said huskily. 

Yoji bit his lip and whimpered. 

//You gonna come?//

~Not until you tell me to.~ Yoji snapped open his eyes. ~Did I really just say that?~

Schuldich stood and pulled Yoji upright, slipping his tunic over his head. Then he pulled Yoji against him and sucked on the back of his neck, his hand sneaking into Yoji’s tight jeans. He sculpted Yoji harshly, until Yoji was panting, trying so hard not to lose control.

The German undid his fly and Yoji let out a little sob. He waited as patiently as possible while Schuldich helped him out of his pants (he hadn’t even bothered with underwear.)

“Lie down. On your back.” Schuldich pushed him gently.

He scooted to the headboard and lay on his back. Schuldich just stood there, hands on his hips, the belt in his right hand. 

“Touch yourself.”

Yoji didn’t immediately go for his cock, though it certainly was screaming for attention. He stoked his hair, licked his thumb, played with his nipples, and finally, when Schuldich’s nostrils flared from trying to keep his breathing under control, Yoji fisted his dick.

“Oh,” he moaned, tilting his head back. 

Schuldich crawled on the bed and sat on folded knees. He watched Yoji intently. //That’s it. Show me how you like it.//

Yoji stroked himself quickly and played with his balls. He wasn’t embarrassed, not in the least. Schuldich seemed just mesmerized; he was concentrating so hard. 

“Stop.”

Biting off a curse, Yoji forced his hands to his sides.

Schuldich didn’t leave him waiting long, though. He stroked Yoji, exactly the way Yoji had touched himself, only better, because it was someone else’s warm hand on his throbbing cock. 

“Schu,” he breathed.

Schuldich bent over and flicked his tongue over the slit. Yoji curled over and ran his fingers through that orange hair. 

//Wanna try something. You game?//

Hesitating only a moment, Yoji nodded. 

Schuldich took up the belt and looped it around Yoji’s wrists. He stared deeply into Yoji’s eyes as he tied the belt to the headboard. It wasn’t very tight—Yoji could break free if he tried. But he would have to really pull.

“This okay?” Schuldich rubbed his wrists.

Yoji swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Yeah. Just . . . Yeah.”

//Same rules still apply. You say no, I stop.//

~Okay.~

Schuldich licked Yoji’s lips open, kissed him briefly, and then painted a wet trail back to his dick. He licked and sucked, harmonica-style, for a long time, then bobbed up and down—never once breaking eye contact with Yoji. 

For his part, Yoji was in sweet agony. He moaned. He panted. He bucked up, until Schuldich had to hold his hips down. He really, really wanted to come. Another handful of minutes, and he was straining at his bonds.

“Schu, please . . .”

//Not yet.//

He thrashed his head as his cock hit the back of Schuldich’s throat. “Ugh.”

Eventually he just broke down and begged. ~Please. Please, Schu. Please?~

Strangely, he could tell that part of Schuldich wanted to give in to him, to let him have his way. But the other part, the more dominant part, wanted to teach Yoji a lesson.

So he forced himself to take deep breaths, focused on the jazz, and stopped pleading. The minute he was back in check, Schuldich smiled. Well, smiled as much as he could with Yoji’s prick in his mouth. 

//Very good. You may come.//

“Little more?” Yoji asked, meaning for Schuldich to suck him a little faster and harder.

Schuldich did, filling his mouth with warm saliva. Yoji came, his back arched, Schuldich’s name spilling out as a threadbare whisper. The German swallowed all of it, and licked him until he was completely soft. 

Then he rested his head on Yoji’s chest and sighed. //Better?//

~Mm hm.~ Yoji smiled. “What about you?”

“Excellent question. Should I keep you tied up as I fuck you, or do you think I’ll like it more if you scratch my back open?”

Yoji grinned. “Your call.”

Schuldich reached up and set Yoji free with one hand. “I’ve got better stuff than lotion. Just gimmie a minute.”

Yoji wasn’t going anywhere. He could barely move while the blood tingled back into his arms. Schuldich returned in a moment, naked, shaking a bottle of clear lube. He handed it to Yoji. 

//Get me ready,// he sent as he nipped his way along Yoji’s jaw line. 

Considerately, (he’d used this very brand himself before, and no one liked cold lube) he warmed it in his hands, then coated Schuldich’s impressive length with sure strokes. 

Schuldich bit down on his neck and moaned. 

~Tell me what feels good? I mean, I wanna please you too.~

Schuldich just looked at him. “Don’t worry. You do.” He took up some of the lube and coated his fingers. 

Yoji spread his legs without having to be asked. Schuldich prepped him efficiently—it was obvious he wanted in, badly. //Relax.//

He relaxed, letting his knees fall to the bed. ~I really want to do it face to face this time.~

Schuldich didn’t say anything as he added another finger. When he was as stretched as he was gonna be, the German positioned himself and slowly pushed in.

Yoji held still until Schuldich was seated to the hilt, then he puffed out a shuddering breath.

Schuldich touched their foreheads together and closed his eyes. //So fucking gorgeous.//

Yoji pet Schuldich’s hair back and waited. It didn’t take long. Schuldich thrust in and out, in and out, hovering over him, kissing him, just looking at him, and it was ridiculously tender, all of it.

//I could be brutal, Yo-tan. I could make you bleed a river.// To illustrate his point, Schuldich stabbed sharply into Yoji, making him grimace.

“I never thought of you as a tamed pussycat,” Yoji strained out, trying not to tear up.

Schuldich kissed his eyelids in apology. //Good. Don’t forget that. I’m playing nice because I want to.//

“Oh yeah. You’re a real bad ass,” Yoji said, holding Schuldich’s face still and kissing him. “Come on. Give it to me.”

Schuldich shook his head and pushed Yoji’s knees to his chest. He started fucking Yoji in earnest, grunting, and Yoji could sense along their bond how turned on Schuldich was, and how scared he was that he was going to really hurt Yoji, and how annoyed he was that he was scared at all, and also how tight Yoji’s ass was, and how Yoji looked, sprawled over the pillows, clutching at him. It was quite bizarre, watching all this from both perspectives. 

Yoji was hard again. Naturally. He dug his fingernails into Schuldich’s ass, pushing him forward. Then he raked at Schuldich’s back. Schuldich responded by hooking Yoji’s knees over his elbows and thrusting faster. 

“Ugh, oh . . .” Yoji gripped the bedding, twisting it until his knuckles were white. 

Schuldich rested his head in the crook of Yoji’s neck and kept his thrusts short and fast. //Want you. So bad. So hot.//

~Don’t stop. Don’t stop, Schu!~

Gritting his teeth, Schuldich switched angles and forced himself to slow down. “Demanding. Little. Bitch,” he said affectionately.

“Just how you like it.” Yoji grinned. 

//Cocky, too.// Schuldich kissed him and Yoji held him still, prolonging it. 

~God, I love the way you fuck me,~ he couldn’t help himself from thinking.

Schuldich blinked, surprised. A slow, wicked smile. “Aw, lover, you flatter me.” But even though he said it sarcastically, Yoji could tell he was pleased. 

The German was sweating now, perspiration beading up on his forehead, pooling down the line of his spine. Yoji licked up the salt at Schuldich’s temple and hummed. Schuldich couldn’t last much longer, but he wanted to milk it as much as he could. 

“Greedy,” Schuldich whispered, really driving into him now. Somehow, the older man found the strength to rest all his weight on one hand, stroking Yoji in time to his thrusts. 

Yoji gripped Schuldich’s biceps and lifted his hips up, giving Schuldich the best angle he could. Schuldich came first, grunting, and Yoji jerked himself off, coming just as Schuldich started to collapse. 

//Great. I’m stuck in the wet spot,// Schuldich thought, as he toppled into Yoji’s arms. 

Yoji just held him, stroking back his damp hair. The jazz filled up the silence. 

When Schuldich finally pulled out, Yoji did his best to manfully hide his pain, but it was pointless. Schuldich gave him a sharp look. “Told you it hurts this way.”

“Worth it,” Yoji whispered.

“Fuck,” Schuldich swore. He bent over and licked Yoji’s stomach clean. 

Personally, Yoji had no idea why Schuldich would want to do that—besides the fact that it was messy, it was cold.

Schuldich just shrugged. //Used to it, I guess. Doesn’t bother me.//

Yoji raised one eyebrow. He rolled them over and kissed Schuldich, then settled comfortably against him. “You’re very odd, Schuldich.”

The German snickered. “Guess so.” He stroked his fingernails up and down the small of Yoji’s back, right at his bundle of nerves. //Sleep?//

In truth, Yoji didn’t want to. He didn’t want to waste a moment. But they had all weekend, and he did need a rest, because undoubtedly, Schuldich would want to go again. And again. And again. 

~I’m not going to be able to sit down for a week, am I?~

//Pro'lly not. Sorry.//

~No you’re not.~

Schuldich grinned, kissing his forehead. “Cold? Want covers?”

Yoji shrugged. Schuldich didn’t move. The other man was tired too. They dozed like that for an hour or two. Yoji fell asleep smiling.

~*~

Schuldich woke up when one of his favorite jazz pieces started playing. Yoji was passed out, curled up against him. He smiled and just looked at the younger man for a while. This whole situation was totally fucked up, but then, that was normal for him. 

He didn’t want to think too much about it. Thinking was never his strong suit anyway.

Leaning over, he took one of Yoji’s nipples into his mouth and very, very gently sucked on it. He smiled when Yoji sighed and arched a little. He kept it up, stroking his hand around and around Yoji’s ass, until the man woke, a soft smile on his lips. 

“Hey,” Yoji said sleepily. “Vampire.”

Schuldich hissed, then winked. He licked Yoji’s ribs and nuzzled his chest. It wasn’t even eleven o’clock, but the moonlight shone bright through the windows. 

“Can we take a bath?” Yoji asked suddenly. “Do you have a tub?”

He blinked. “Yeah. Big one.”

“Ooh.”

Yoji didn’t have a tub, just a shower, apparently. Hey, if the man wanted a bath, Schuldich could give him a bath. At this point, if Yoji said he wanted dancing pink elephants, Schuldich would get him dancing pink elephants, so long as he could fuck the younger man again.

“I’ll go start the water.”

Yoji stretched. 

Schuldich turned the tap to just shy of scalding hot, and filled the tub with that scented bubble bath crap that was in the toiletry basket. Suddenly, Yoji came up behind him, nuzzling his neck. 

He stood there, frozen, as Yoji kissed his shoulder and rubbed his chest. He liked it. He really liked it, when Yoji took some initiative. That way, this little love affair didn’t feel so one-sided. Or like a business transaction. 

Though why that would bother him, he didn’t want to think about. Schuldich prided himself on being brutally honest. And the truth was, Yoji was his hired whore. Not his lover.

Couldn’t hardly tell that, though, by the reverent way Yoji was sucking on the cords of his neck. “Now who’s the vampire?”

“Mm.” ~Tastes good. Salty. Want to taste you.~

Schuldich let out a slow breath. “Bath’s ready.”

Yoji waited for Schuldich to get in. He let out a satisfied groan and indicated that Yoji should join him.

He did. He got in and sank right down into the water, sitting in Schuldich’s lap. He pushed Schuldich against the back of the marble tub and kissed him, not exactly forcefully, but there was some insistence there.

Schuldich cupped handfuls of water and poured it over Yoji’s shoulders. Yoji had an exquisite back. He was thin, yes, but sculpted. His skin was slightly darker than Schuldich's (who was very pale) and it stretched taut over his muscles. 

And his hair. His hair didn’t quite reach his shoulders, but instead wisped just under his chin, framing his face. 

“You are a very handsome man,” Schuldich murmured, stroking Yoji’s thigh.

Shyly, Yoji shrugged. It puzzled Schuldich as to why the playboy felt so uncomfortable about his own appearance. There was something there, but, he didn’t feel like going digging for it at the moment. 

Yoji seemed content to kiss him and rub up against him. It was cute. Almost kittenish. Schuldich just had to sit there and enjoy it. By the time Yoji reached over for the shampoo and started massaging his scalp, Schuldich was putty in the man’s hands. 

“Ahhh.” If he were a cat, he would have purred. Next, conditioner. Long fingers. On his scalp. So good. //Hmmmm.//

Yoji carefully rinsed all if it out, wiping sudsy water away from his eyes. Schuldich smiled up at him. 

The younger man looked a little confused. Schuldich explored along their bond, realizing that Yoji was starting to feel . . . something for him. He . . . he didn’t know how to react to that. 

It was dangerous territory.

Instead, he hefted Yoji up and turned him around, making him rest his weight on the wide lip of the tub. He took up the shampoo, squeezed out a generous amount, and proceeded to slick Yoji’s ass with it.

“B-Burns!”

“I know. Gotta keep clean.” Schuldich held him still mercilessly. 

“Hn! I don’t like it,” Yoji complained.

Schuldich thinned his lips and didn’t say anything. Yoji was twitching—that ass wriggled temptingly. “Ah, screw it.”

He surged up and thrust in, ignoring Yoji’s sputtering shock. He panted against Yoji’s neck, hooking his chin over Yoji’s shoulder, reaching out through their link. Concentrating hard, he wiped the sensation of pain almost completely out of Yoji’s mind. 

Normally, this was something he would never, ever do. Brad always refused flat out to have Schuldich tamper with his mind (even when he’d been shot, he wouldn’t let Schuldich deaden his pain response) and most of his other lovers either didn’t need to be cushioned, or he didn’t bother to care. 

The younger man relaxed instantly against him, moaning. “S’not . . . something’s . . . different . . . hm . . .”

“Shh, baby. I got you.” Schuldich bent Yoji over and rocked slowly in and out. 

Yoji pushed back, eager, so Schuldich lowered them a little into the water and let Yoji do most of the work. He played with the man’s nipples, stroked his cock, and just closed his eyes and enjoyed being inside Yoji. Feeling Yoji’s complete pleasure. Feeling connected, finally, after months and months of floating listlessly at sea. 

“Schu, more?”

Nodding, Schuldich let Yoji twist onto all fours, then covered him. The water splashed up over the sides a bit as he took the younger man forcefully. Yoji rolled his hips in maddening circles, and Schuldich could share the sensation of his slender cock, dipping in and out of the warm water, as Schuldich fucked him. He let Yoji experience his own feelings, as he moved faster. 

“God,” Yoji whispered, shivering.

He wanted to kiss Yoji, but he couldn’t stop now. Too close. 

~Want to . . . want to . . . let me do . . .~

Huffing, Schuldich reluctantly let Yoji pull away and turn around. Yoji reached for his cock and jerked him, staring at him intensely. Schuldich knelt up and mirrored the action. Their dicks beat on each other’s bellies as they shared a hot, wet, open kiss. 

Yoji made him come, his tongue licking the roof of Schuldich’s mouth. He squeezed Yoji roughly, jerking him until Yoji shuddered and coated his hand. Then he bowled Yoji backward and they both sighed, happy to be back in the warm water. 

“Don’t fall asleep.”

Yoji cracked open an eye. “Afraid I’ll drown?”

Schuldich smirked. “Kudo. If you thought you’d be getting any serious shut-eye tonight, you’d best think again.”

Yoji rolled his eyes. “What are you, Superman?”

The German winked and pulled Yoji up out of the tub.

“We made a mess,” Yoji said regretfully.

“Then we did it right.” Schuldich toweled them off. “That’s why I like hotels. Maid service. Room service. Laundry service. I like being serviced.”

Yoji immediately got down on his knees and laved at his cock. Schuldich yelped.

Smirking, Yoji sucked him until he was hard again, then looked up at him and said, “How’s that?”

//Minx.// He petted Yoji’s hair. “Unless you want me to fuck you on the bathmat, I suggest we head back to bed.”

Yoji nodded, but Schuldich held him down by his shoulder. “Favor?”

“Hm?”

//Wanna see you crawl?// Schuldich waited, a little nervous, wondering how Yoji would react.

At first, the younger man worried that Schuldich had meant that as an insult. So Schuldich stroked his thumb over Yoji’s lip and smiled. “Please?”

Haltingly, Yoji nodded and slunk across the floor, into the bedroom.

Schuldich sent him the mental picture of himself, plus Schuldich’s own jolt of arousal at the sight, and Yoji’s fears were assuaged. He waited until the man crawled up on the bed and turned to face him before he dared to walk into the room.

//You are, without a doubt, probably the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.//

“Aw shucks.”

“I mean it.” Schuldich climbed up at the bottom of the bed and kissed the arch of Yoji’s foot. He spread the younger man out and then pressed little kisses up his legs, his hips, his chest . . . finally kissing his mouth, lips closed, sweet and slow. 

~Damn you’re good. I bet you’ve had all your lovers wrapped around your little finger until now.~

//Easier ways to do that, what with being the Mastermind. If I wanted to, I could turn you into an idol sex doll with a single thought. So, there’s no point in telling you pretty lies.//

“Unless it’s more fun to fuck with people’s emotions.”

“Ah, well, you have me there.”

Yoji nodded, contemplative. “I can’t quite figure you out, Schuldich.”

“So stop trying,” Schuldich whispered, hugging Yoji close. //Just hold me.//

Yoji wrapped his arms tightly around Schuldich. ~Won’t let go ‘til you say.~

As promised, Schuldich kept Yoji up all night.

As equally promised, Yoji never let go.

~*~

Yoji woke up first the next morning, tangled in silk sheets and Schuldich’s arms. The stereo had cut off by itself sometime last night and the suite was super quiet, but the sunlight streamed through the windows and warmed his face.

He lightly stroked Schuldich’s hair back off his neck and traced a finger over Schuldich’s slight stubble. His stomach growled.

Schuldich grinned. 

“You’re awake.”

//Who can sleep with all that racket?//

“Son of a bitch.”

Schuldich opened his eyes and winked. He pulled Yoji closer and kissed him. “Better feed you or you’re likely to turn cannibal. Luckily, as I was saying last night, I have room service. The kitchen can cook anything you want. Pancakes. Fruit salad. Even,” he shuddered, “runny eggs and rice.”

Yoji smiled softly. “Whatever you’re having. Don’t care.”

“I just drink black coffee in the morning.”

He frowned. “That’s not good for you.”

//Worried it will affect me in my old age? Assuming that I’ll live to see thirty?//

“How old are you?”

Schuldich blinked. “Twenty-eight.”

Yoji blinked back. “You don’t expect to make it to thirty?”

The German sighed. “Kudo, did you miss the part where the most powerful and evil organization in the world, who happens to have more money than God, is probably gunning for me even as we speak?”

“But why? Because of the demon thing? Wasn’t your fault.”

“Oh, well, I’ll just go calmly explain that to them, and then they’ll have to see reason.” Schuldich rolled his eyes. “Besides . . . I might have taken some money from them.”

“What?” Yoji asked flatly.

“Well, I mean, it was in Brad’s account. I had to live on something afterwards!” Schuldich stiffened slightly. “For all they know, Brad could have already spent it all before . . .” //Of course, they have other telepaths that would know better, if they went looking . . .//

“You dumb ass,” Yoji said, stroking Schuldich’s hair up and away from his face. 

“I know,” he said lamely. “I can’t help it.”

Yoji shook his head. “You really can’t, can you?” He sighed. “Does this mean that you’re buying this fancy hotel room, your snappy clothes, and my expensive rear end with Esset money?”

Schuldich swallowed. “Um. Yes?”

Pausing, Yoji considered. “There’s a strange justice to that.”

The German grinned. Yoji’s stomach growled again. Schuldich chuckled. 

“Hey,” Yoji said. “It’s one thing to fuck me into oblivion all night, but famish me? You monster.”

“There’s nothing in your contract that says I have to replenish spent calories.”

“Feed me. Man cannot subsist on sperm alone.”

Schuldich threw his head back and laughed. “All right, all right, what do you want to eat?”

“Runny eggs and rice,” Yoji said vindictively.

Schuldich glared and pinned him to the mattress. They wrestled—things quickly turned heated—suddenly Schuldich was trying to suck Yoji’s tonsils out of his mouth.

//Yoji, Christ, I want you again.//

Yoji rolled them over so that he was on top, smirking as Schuldich rubbed sensually against the silk sheets. “Hedonist,” he whispered before kissing him.

//Fuck me, Yoji.//

Nodding, Yoji kneeled up and positioned Schuldich’s dick. He was already pretty slick from previous spending, and it couldn’t possibly get more raw, at this point, anyway.

“No,” Schuldich murmured, stroking his arm. “Fuck me.”

Yoji’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

The German nodded. //I’ll need lube. It’s been a while.//

~But . . . but I . . . I’ve never . . .~

Schuldich sighed impatiently. “Dick goes in the hole. Dick goes out. Repeat process until one or both of us comes. Simple. Just like with a girl.”

Yoji thinned his lips. “But I’m gonna hurt you, Schu!”

Schuldich just nodded, and rolled over. He pointed to the nightstand. “Lube. Be generous.”

It would be a downright lie if Yoji pretended that he didn’t want this—badly. Much as he liked it when Schuldich fucked his brains out, that wasn’t his usual role to play. He really liked sex. Really liked it. Nothing felt better than a warm, wet pussy constricting around his cock. (Except maybe—maybe—what Schuldich had done to him the past few days.) But this? This was uncharted territory.

//It’s not. I let you feel what I felt, in you. You can do it. Don’t make me beg.//

“I’d like to see that, actually,” Yoji murmured, reaching for the lube. 

He was generous. To the point where the bottle slipped out of his hands and Schuldich laughed at him. But not that brittle, nasal laugh. No, this one was deep and rich. Playful. 

Schuldich held himself very still and was very quiet while Yoji prepped him. And Yoji took his time, sympathetic to a sore ass. 

//Now, Yoji; before I grow a beard.//

~Greedy, pushy . . .~ He thrust in.

Schuldich sucked in a breath and bit the pillow.

“You okay?” he groaned out. Schuldich was tight. Much tighter than any woman. He’d never been big on virgins, always too complicated, but on the few women he’d been the first for, their tightness and heat didn’t hold a candle to this.

//Did I just permanently convert you to anal sex?//

“We’ll see.” He kissed Schuldich’s neck. ~Tell me you’re all right, because I really have to fuck you now.~

//I’m all right, Kudo. Do it.//

Yoji did. 

His style was different than Schuldich’s. Less animalistic. Less assertive. Yoji liked going slow, taking his time. In fact, Yoji liked driving his lovers to the point where they would say or do anything, without embarrassment, just to get Yoji to hurry things along. Schuldich was not a patient man, but he did have his pride. 

It took several minutes of long, slow strokes in and out—and Yoji’s saintly self-control—before Schuldich started raking his nails down the sheets and muttering curses.

“What’s that?” ~Couldn’t hear you over the gasping.~

“I said fuck me, you son of a bitch.”

“I am fucking you, Schu.”

“Harder, faster. Something. Vicious bastard, more!”

“Tsk, tsk.” ~Hardly motivating talk.~

“Mmese.”

“Huh?”

“Please,” Schuldich said quietly. //I need just a little more.//

Yoji licked the shell of Schuldich’s ear. “Spread your legs wider,” he whispered.

Schuldich did, and he drilled into the man, grateful, because by this point, they both wanted it desperately. The German finally broke down, groaning loudly with every thrust, and Yoji was ridiculously happy at that, because Schuldich had told him that Crawford hadn’t let him make noise, and he didn’t want Schuldich to have to hold himself back; that wasn’t Yoji’s way at all.

//Don’t judge Brad. You never knew him.//

~Fine. But if he didn’t like to listen to you moan like this, then I say he was either crazy, or a damned fool. Sorry, but there it is.~

Schuldich arched up. “Oh, Yoji!”

He switched angles and circled his hips, around and around, screwing Schuldich. “Fuck, Schu.”

Schuldich snaked a hand between his pelvis and the mattress and began to jerk himself off. Yoji rose up a little to watch it.

//Little deeper, baby, please.//

He instinctively obeyed. It was so good. Schuldich sobbed a little, and Yoji flicked his tongue over his ear, breathing heavily.

~Gonna come soon. What should I do?~

//In me. In me.//

Yoji dropped his forehead to Schuldich’s tense back and just gave himself up to the rhythm. Schuldich held their link tightly, and they both came at the same time. 

“Yoji!”

He slowly lowered himself down, his arms trembling. “Schu,” he whispered. 

They panted, exhausted. 

Yoji’s stomach growled.

Schuldich got to laughing again. “Hey. I got a better idea than soupy rice. There’s a diner around the block. Why don’t we go get lunch? It’s almost that time anyway.”

Yoji moaned. “Need another bath, then.”

Schuldich peered at him from over his shoulder. “Make it worth your while.”

He grinned. 

They showered together—Schuldich stood behind Yoji and held him close, washing his hair, petting him softly. The showerhead was detachable, so Yoji took it down and helped rinse Schuldich inside out (which was, oddly, the most intimate thing he’d ever done to someone else.) They toweled off and got dressed (Yoji hadn’t bothered to bring extra clothing, but that was fine,) and headed downstairs to the diner.

It was one of those knock-off American Dairy Queen joints. Juke box. Booth seats. Waitresses in fifties’ uniforms. 

One particularly pretty young lady brought them over glasses of ice water. Schuldich ordered them both a burger and fries and two thick malt milkshakes. Yoji just shook his head and wished for a cigarette.

“You’re in luck.” Schuldich pulled out a pack of Lucky Strikes. 

“Can we smoke in here?”

“Smoking section, Yo-tan.” Schuldich pointed to the sign.

“Right on. Gimmie.”

Schuldich lit both in his mouth and handed one to Yoji. The German rubbed Yoji’s leg under the table and sighed contentedly. He looked . . . like he had when he was playing the piano.

“When did you learn to play music?”

Schuldich froze. “Childhood.”

Yoji waited.

“Started when I was four.”

“That’s young,” Yoji said.

“Not in Germany.”

“Oh. It was very pretty. What was that song?” Yoji inhaled.

Schuldich looked out the window. “Just something my mother taught me. I forgot how to read music, it was so long ago.”

~Couldn’t you just . . . mentally steal it from a musician or something?~

“Could. Don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

Schuldich gave him a perturbed look and shrugged. “Don’t know. It’s in the past.”

Yoji nodded, sort of understanding. “Asuka could play a little bit. Chopsticks. Actually, she mostly hunted and pecked.”

Schuldich stared down at the ashtray. He turned it in little circles with his thumb and forefinger. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes it was,” he said quickly. “Yes. It was.”

The German flicked his ash and shrugged again. “Bound to happen, Kudo.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He folded his arms.

Schuldich sighed and took a long drag. “Look. You live as many years as I did with a pre-cog, and you come to realize a few home truths about destiny. Every choice you make has a consequence. Everything happens for a reason.”

“That’s impossible. You can’t have it both ways—free will and predetermination.” Yoji frowned, not really liking this conversation.

“Yet that’s exactly the way it is.” Schuldich sat forward. “Yoji. Half the things that happen in this world look like little insignificant coincidences. You add enough of those up, it’s all connected. Asuka chose to be a detective; you were destined to love her. Asuka was destined to get shot; you chose to join Weiss. Weiss was destined to win . . . Bradley chose to die. That’s the reality. If you want me to tell you something to help you sleep at night, you’re gonna have to get the fuck over it. Asuka died in that alley, not because you couldn’t run fast enough, or move quick enough, or take the bullet for her, but because it was Asuka’s fucking time.”

Yoji squirmed, angry and hurt and depressed, all at the same time.

“And you know what? I’m glad she’s dead. I’m glad. Otherwise we’d never have met.”

His first reaction was to lean across the table and punch Schuldich. But he didn’t. Because, through their link, he knew that Schuldich had never meant to say that. He did mean it however, and that scared them both. He’d meant it—he’d regret it if he’d never met Yoji. He’d regret it.

Schuldich glared at him and took another drag.

Yoji cleared his throat. “She was the love of my life,” he said quietly. ~You’ll never come close.~

Schuldich’s mind flicked to Crawford before pulling back. “Understood.”

Suddenly, he wasn’t very hungry. “For what it’s worth, I . . . I’m glad I got to know the real you, too.”

The German cocked his head and smiled ferally. “What makes you think you do?”

Yoji blinked. “Ouch!” His cigarette had burned down to the filter, which he was holding too high up. He dropped it into the ashtray. 

“Weren’t paying attention, got burned,” Schuldich murmured. But he took up Yoji’s hand, grabbed some ice from his glass of water, and rubbed it on Yoji’s finger gently. 

~Are you, by any chance, bi-polar?~

Schuldich smirked. “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

Their food came and they ate quickly. Even upset, Yoji was really, really hungry.

//Why don’t you ever remember to eat dinner?//

~They'd never let me cook.~

“Who? Weiss?”

“Yeah.” He chewed. “There was that time that Ken and I almost burned down the kitchen. It was Ken’s fault, but we both got banned from cooking. Aya . . . I mean, Ran . . . Ran refused to cook. So it was mostly Omi.”

“Hm. Nagi cooked for us. Funny that.”

“What? That Schwartz managed to play house together?”

“Nooo,” Schuldich drawled, sipping his shake. “The youngest ones, doing all the mothering.”

Yoji shrugged. “Omi is an old man in a boy’s body.” A surge of protectiveness welled up in him.

//You really love that kid. You loved them all.// “There’s this warm fuzzy clichéd feeling every time you think of them.”

“They were my team,” Yoji said simply.

“Things weren’t like that at chez Schwartz.”

~Well, no, what with you all being crazy. And freaks.~

Schuldich went cold. “Crazy is right, but don’t use that word again.”

“Freaks?” Yoji blinked. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know. But don’t.”

“Okay.” He frowned. “Got it a lot growing up, huh?”

Schuldich’s turn to squirm. “More than you could imagine.”

Yoji nodded. “Well, fuck whoever said it. I would love to have a superpower.”

“Christ, I’m not Sailormoon; it’s not a power. It’s just an extra sense. You do have the ability, you all do, it’s just, you never exercised it when you were young and now the pathways are lost, overgrown with weeds. Dead.”

“Um, okay, whatever. I still think I’d rather be a telepath than just a boring normal person.”

Schuldich stared at him.

“What?”

Suddenly, Yoji’s mental walls were striped away. Noise, indiscernible at first, became louder and louder, until he could hear everyone’s thoughts, overlapping one another as if they whole room was shouting.

* He’s cheating on me; I know it! The bastard! *

* Where’s the fucking waitress, my coffee is cold. *

* When I get home tonight . . . * 

* . . . It would be so easy to just open up a vein . . . *

* I’m so fat! *

* Looks like rain . . . *

* Gonna miss the bus. * 

* Ugly orange-haired freak. Go back to your own country! * 

“Stop. Please, stop,” Yoji whispered, gripping the table.

Abruptly, it was quiet. 

He felt like someone had fucked his skull. He was close to throwing up.

“Still want those superpowers?”

Yoji looked up at Schuldich, tears in his eyes. “Schu?” he asked, truly freaked out.

For a moment, Schuldich looked cruel. Distant. Then his face softened. “It was like that for me in the beginning, you know. I couldn’t block it. I came fully into my gift when I reached puberty. Before, everyone just thought I was really sensitive. Almost like I was empathic. But by the time I was thirteen, I could hear voices.”

Yoji saw it in his mind’s eye. Trips to the doctors, shock therapy, drugs making a young, scrawny Schuldich sluggish, dull. He watched as Schuldich ran away, slept in alleys, bus terminals, beat up boxes. He saw Schuldich take money to get in stranger’s cars.

He bolted up for a minute, panicked.

//Relax. You think Brad would have touched me if I wasn’t regularly tested? I’m clean.//

“You should have told me,” Yoji said, angry. He’d never fucked a girl without a condom. It didn’t even occur to him he’d need protection with a man.

“I told you not to assume things.” Schuldich shrugged. “I’m clean. Miraculously.”

Yoji reeled back. “Fuck.” He’d been really, really stupid.

“That romantic little bubble of yours burst, then?”

But Yoji wasn’t as disgusted or angry as he should have been. If anything, he was furious on Schuldich’s behalf. “Didn’t your family look for you?”

The German shrugged. “I didn’t want to be found. And they didn’t try that hard.”

Yoji pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. I gotta ask. How did you end up with Esset?”

Schuldich lit up another cigarette. “Bradley.”

“Crawford?”

“I offered him a blow job. He offered me a real job. The academy had four walls, a bed, three meals a day, and free schooling. Plus, being an assassin sounds bad ass when you’re a teenager. And they knew about my gift and they didn’t care. They actually appreciated it; told me I was special. I thought it was the answer to all my problems.” He tapped his lips with his thumb. “I was stupid. But you see . . . Brad’s power . . . as a pre-cog, he was focused. Do you know what I mean?”

Yoji shook his head.

“He was older; he was a master of control. Bradley gave me silence. For the first time in a year. I was mad. I was strung out on drugs. I was starving. He made me sane. He helped me kick it. He protected and provided for me. I thought he was fucking generous. My White Knight.” Schuldich laughed bitterly. “He was,” he whispered. “He was. He saved me, the prick.”

Yoji could sense Schuldich’s despair. He reached out and took up Schuldich’s hand. “Schu.”

“Don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not!” Yoji’s heart wrenched and he squeezed Schuldich’s hand.

“What the fuck is this?”

They snapped around to see Ken Hidaka, arms folded, eyes narrowed, standing at the edge of their table.


	5. Chapter 5

Yoji dropped his hand.

Schuldich whipped his head around. Ken Hidaka stood there, dressed in running shorts and a grey tee shirt that was soaked with sweat. Shock, and something akin to disgust, pulsed in the air around him. The young man stood at the edge of their table, his arms crossed, a frown marring his handsome face. 

For a minute, Schuldich was distracted by the chunks of sloppy brown hair plastered to his sweaty forehead.

But then Siberian bunched up his fists, and, faster than the human eye could track, Schuldich grabbed him up, pulled him into the booth, and held his lit cigarette about three millimeters from Hidaka’s left eye. 

“Move, and I’ll get you a nice new eye patch for Christmas,” he murmured. “Between that and your bum leg, it should put you off soccer for life, but you’d make a fine pirate.”

“What bum leg?” the stupid young man asked.

“The one I’m going to give you, when I kick your ass.”

“Schuldich,” Yoji said worriedly.

Ken sat rigidly beside him. “Yoji?” ~*Why are you with Schuldich, Yoji? Have you turned traitor too?*~

//Too?// he wondered. “Now, now,” Schuldich said aloud, keeping his voice very soft. “I’m not looking for a fight. And Yoji’s not looking for a fight. So why don’t you caaaalm dowwwn.”

Hidaka let out a long, tense breath.

“Schuldich, get that thing out of his face,” Yoji demanded.

“Well, I would,” he said, “but Siberian here’s having fantasies of killing me with the ketchup bottle, so, until he calms the fuck down, we’ll be getting cozy.” Schuldich pulled the young man closer, so that it looked like they were hugging.

“Yoji?” Ken asked again, afraid to blink.

Yoji shook his head. “Ken, relax. Schu, let him go, or I’m gonna murder you with the ketchup bottle.”

“ ‘Schu?’ ” Ken repeated hotly.

Schuldich glanced at Ken from the corner of his eye. //Are you gonna be a good little kitty and sit still and listen, I wonder?//

“Yes. Fine,” Ken hissed. “Stop talking in my head.”

Schuldich smirked and removed his hand. He still kept an eye on Ken, though, because the young man was still desperately looking for a way to kill Schuldich without starting an uproar.

“Ken,” Yoji breathed.

“Yoji. Why are you here with this . . . Why are you here?” Ken asked, sliding to the end of the booth to get away from Schuldich.

“It’s a long story, Ken,” Yoji said, reaching across the table to try and hold Ken’s hand. Ken wasn’t buying, however.

“Give me the abridged version.” Ken stared at Schuldich like he was a bomb whose timer was ticking down. 

Schuldich sighed. This was just perfect. Yoji just sat there like a deer in headlights, and Hidaka was about two minutes away from turning this diner into the wild west, and Schuldich had a fantastic fucking headache from when he’d pulled that surround-sound trick with Yoji. That, plus lack of sleep, made him grumpy. 

It was impossible for him to tune out Hidaka’s hatred for him, and worse, he could sense the young man’s feelings of betrayal and Yoji’s fear on top of it. 

Which was odd. The old Schuldich would be lapping this up. And part of him did, in a way. But . . . but this was really going to be bad for Yoji. It was like the man’s worst nightmare. 

“Ken,” Yoji pleaded, “just hear me out, okay?”

Ken nodded. “Is he blackmailing you? Mind controlling you?” ~*I’ll fucking kill the bastard if he’s hurt you, Yo-tan.*~

Schuldich snorted. 

Yoji shot him a look. “Ken. The first thing you should know is that Schuldich’s no longer part of Schwartz. In fact, he’s on the lam from Esset. So, he’s not a threat anymore, okay? That’s the first part.”

Ken’s disbelief was written all over his face. “Yoji. This piece of shit let innocent young girls get burned at the stake. He molested Omi. He kidnapped Aya and Sakura. And let’s not forget that he shot and killed Ouka.”

Schuldich held up a finger. “That was Farfarello, actually.”

“You set it up,” Ken said furiously, attracting other customers’ attention. “You tied her to a fucking tree!”

“Ken, calm down, please,” Yoji murmured, slinking down in the booth. “Please just hear me out.”

“Talk fast,” Ken said, looking around for something he could use as a weapon.

//Sorry. We ordered hamburgers, so, no flatware. You could try banging me over the head with the napkin dispenser if you feel lucky.//

“Get. Out. Of. My. Head.” Hidaka turned on Yoji. “What the fuck are you thinking, Yoji? Why? Why are you holding hands with this bastard?”

But Yoji couldn’t come up with anything. He could think up a few excuses but nothing that would stick, and Schuldich could tell that he didn’t really want to lie to Ken. On the other hand, Yoji didn’t want Ken to know that he’d become Schuldich’s whore. 

So he just sat there, looking pathetic.

“We met at a bar by chance a few days ago,” Schuldich supplied. “I must say, he was a tad more civil, Kenken.”

“Call me that again and I’ll kill you, fuck the witnesses,” Ken hissed out.

“Che. Kudo, do we need to put him on a leash?” Schuldich asked, then puffed on his cigarette and blew the smoke in Ken’s face.

Ken coughed. “You didn’t tell us you’d seen him?” he asked Yoji. “You didn’t think it would have been pertinent to us?”

“Ooh, the jock used a big word,” Schuldich mumbled.

Yoji glared at him before turning back to Ken. “Ken, it’s been a crazy couple of days. As I said, Schuldich is out of Esset and Schwartz.”

“There is no Schwartz,” he said bitterly. 

Ken nodded. “Yeah. Got it. And so you decided to ‘do lunch’ and hold hands like none of the past mattered? Yoji, they tried to end the world.”

Schuldich shook his head and looked at the ceiling. This conversation was already boring and it was only going to get worse. He could sense Yoji’s maelstrom of emotions—his fear, his shame, (which pissed Schuldich off) and his regret. 

“Ken . . .” Yoji closed his eyes. He was dizzy. He was making Schuldich dizzy. “Ken, Schuldich and I . . . Schuldich and I . . .”

//Gonna deny me, lover?//

Yoji looked green. He really was gonna be sick. “Schuldich and I . . .”

“We fuck like rabid dogs,” Schuldich said scathingly.

He dodged Ken’s punch, (he’d had plenty of practice with Bradley on that score, even without super-speed) and instead, squeezed the small bones of Ken’s fist together until the young man gasped and cried out. He held that hand down on the booth and just looked at Ken. “Raise a hand to me again,” he said, “and next time, I’ll break it.”

~Schuldich, no!~

Ken panted. “What . . . what are you talking about?” he said, snatching his hand away and cradling it to his chest. “Quit your sick mind games!”

“Oh, I’m not lying, kitten,” Schuldich said breezily. 

He snatched up Ken’s consciousness and sent him image after image—Yoji kissing him, sucking him off, begging him . . . Yoji bent over the lip of the tub while Schuldich pounded into him . . . Yoji grunting as he fucked Schuldich only that morning. 

Ken went pale. 

“What . . . what are you doing to him, Schu?” Yoji asked.

“That’s not possible,” Ken whispered, horrified. “You’re lying.”

“Well,” he corrected himself, “we don’t always fuck like dogs. Yoji has a marked preference for the missionary position.” He winked at Yoji.

The betrayed look on Yoji’s face . . . shock, anger, fear . . . despair. “What have you done?”

“Oh, don’t worry, Yo-tan,” Schuldich said with an evil smirk. “I didn’t embellish. There was no need.”

Yoji’s face crumpled. He looked over at Ken, pained. “It’s not . . . Ken . . . I didn’t mean for it . . .”

“Tell me he’s lying,” Ken whispered, stunned. “Tell me he’s making it up. Tell me he forced you. Did he seduce you with his . . . mind . . . thingy?”

“My ‘mind thingy?’ ” Schuldich repeated, shaking with silent laughter.

Yoji hung his head and bit his lip. “Ken . . .”

Ken sneered. “You have to be under mind control to sleep with that sick motherfucker.”

“I think I’m offended,” Schuldich said lazily. “I’m actually quite a good lover, Hidaka. Yoji comes at least three or four times a night.”

Ken’s eyes widened. Yoji covered his mouth; he really was going to puke.

Schuldich almost sent him the mental image of someone hurling, but, one, he wasn’t feeling that cruel and two, he hated the smell of vomit. 

Surprisingly, it was Ken’s eyes that filled with tears. “How . . . How long? Since Weiss?”

“No!” Yoji shouted, distressed.

“How could you do this?” Ken strained out, imploring Yoji. “You’re straight.”

Schuldich stabbed his cigarette butt out, because he really was close to blinding Ken with it. “Wait. Is it the fact that he’s sleeping with a former enemy or the fact that the enemy’s a man that’s got you upset, Hidaka?”

“Fuck you!” Ken bit out. “Yoji, what the fuck is going on here?”

Yoji sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. ~I will never forgive you for this.~

//I don’t recall asking for your forgiveness for anything, ever, Kudo. So fuck you.//

“Ken,” Yoji said, squaring his shoulders. “I’ve lied to you.”

“Oh, you think?” Ken said.

“I am not a party planner.”

Ken frowned. ~*He’s mixed up in something illegal and Schuldich’s blackmailing him and he can’t say so.*~

//Che. You watch too much television.//

“Are you in some kind of trouble, Yoji?” Ken asked softly, ignoring Schuldich completely.

Schuldich hated being ignored, but Yoji was on the verge of a confession good enough for Lifetime TV, so, he bit his tongue.

“I work at a host club,” Yoji said, looking down at his plate. “Schuldich met me there one night two weeks ago. By accident.”

Ken flicked him a glance and Schuldich just smiled. “Yep.”

“And then . . .” Yoji trailed off, shaking his head. “Ken, Schuldich and I . . . we became lo—”

“I bought him,” Schuldich interrupted. “And before your small, homophobic little mind snaps shut on that piece of information, here’s another: I popped his cherry, too.” He grinned sadistically. 

It was interesting that Ken sort of swallowed the information about Yoji whoring without too much of a struggle—perhaps the mental images helped? Kenken was obviously a visual learner. But the young man just couldn’t get over Yoji’s abandoned heterosexuality.

“You said . . .” Ken licked his lips. “You said you didn’t think of guys that way.”

Yoji sighed and shrugged. “At the time, I didn’t.”

At the time? What time? What the hell was he missing?

“You just didn’t think of me that way,” Ken murmured. “But you can see him like that?”

Wait, wait, wait. Did Siberian carry a torch for Balinese? 

“Or,” Ken swallowed, “was it just always about the money?”

Yoji was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “Ken!”

Schuldich dug around in both their brains and saw it—Ken and Yoji on the couch in the apartment above the flower shop, both of them three sheets to the wind. Ken confessed his feelings for Ran to Yoji, but was worried over his lack of experience. One thing led to another, and Yoji gave Ken some seduction pointers that ended in a few heated kisses and Yoji excusing himself before much else.

//Well, well, well. Hidaka. You’re not close-minded. You’re jealous. Huh. I never figured you for gay.//

The boy rounded on him. “No. I’m not. I’m a jock. I’m a high school teacher. I’m a macho meathead, right?” he said bitterly. “I can’t be gay, of course not.” Ken warbled out the last bit. 

“Oh, Ken,” Yoji breathed. He put his head in his hands. “I’m so sorry, Kenken.”

“You’re sorry?” Ken said like it was an accusation. “I don’t even have words.”

Schuldich didn’t like this game anymore. It had been fun to watch Hidaka get riled up, and he’d wanted to punish Yoji for trying to cover Schuldich up like a stain, but Yoji was really in agony. He could kiss the blonde’s sweet ass goodbye—and their addictive mental connection—if he didn’t spin this ball back in Yoji’s court.

“Ken,” Schuldich said, dropping his sarcastic tone. “What right do you have to judge Yoji?”

Ken blinked at him. “Excuse me? Are you insane? Oh, wait, that would be a yes.”

Schuldich crossed his legs and stretched his hands over the booth. “Watch your mouth.” He pinched the back of Ken’s neck with his thumb and forefinger in warning.

He took a deep breath and let go. “Yoji here has done a pile of dumb shit in his life, I’ll give you that. But so have you. He didn’t turn traitor. He didn’t put anyone in danger. It’s not like I couldn’t have found Weiss on my own, without tapping him. So what’s your beef?”

Ken looked back and forth between Yoji and Schuldich for a while. “He’s fucking you, for starters!”

Schuldich chuckled; he just couldn’t help it. Then, he sobered. “It’s his body, Ken; not yours. What business is it of yours who he fucks?”

Yoji wiped his face with his hands and let out a hysterical little laugh. 

“Okay, first of all, it’s my business because I’m his friend—at least I thought so, Yoji,” Ken said, before turning back to Schuldich. “So if he’s fucking a hired serial killer—”

“Former,” Schuldich reminded.

“So you say,” Ken shot back. “You’ll forgive me if it both outrages and disgusts me.”

“Do you want me to forgive you?” Schuldich asked, looking at Yoji.

“I want you to curl up and die,” Ken said. “But aside from the fact that he’s fucking you,” ~*you waste of skin*~ “he’s also doing it for money. Which last time I checked was highly illegal,” he whispered to Yoji. “So, Yoji, I’m gonna ask you again—what the fuck is this?”

Yoji just shook his head. ~He makes it all sound insane. It was clear a moment ago, when it was just us. I don’t understand. I don’t know what to tell him . . .~

Schuldich sighed. “Hidaka, Yoji’s pulling a Fantine here.”

“Huh?”

//Uncultured slob. Don’t ever call me a waste of skin again.// “He’s sleeping with me for money so he can put Omi through medical school.”

“Schuldich, shut the fuck up,” Yoji finally snapped. ~Butt out. I don’t need you sticking up for me. If you open your mouth again I’m gonna tell Ken you forced me into this and the both of us will kill you. And it will be a fucking favor to you, because if Ran or Omi ever finds out, they’ll torture you first. So SHUT. UP.~

Schuldich clamped his mouth shut.

Ken blinked. “What?”

Yoji looked over at Ken and rubbed his mouth. “Omi’s scholarship ran out.”

Ken frowned. “He never said anything about that.”

“Well, I got it out of him.”

“Why you? Why didn’t he tell me? Or Aya—I mean, Ran?”

Yoji shrugged. “I dunno. I’m father confessor for all of you, I guess. Except Ran, who has nothing to confess.”

Which wasn’t true. Schuldich knew that Ran liked Ken as well, but he didn’t feel generous enough at the moment to share that little morsel of information. 

Yoji reached across the table and took up both of Ken’s hands. “Look. Don’t think for a second that I don’t know what I’m doing is wrong. I know. I figure, I’m already going to hell, why not take the scenic route?” Yoji laughed bitterly.

“Yoji . . .” Ken squeezed his hands. “There has to be—”

“Another way?” Yoji finished. “Not quickly enough. Omi needs the money by next semester. The only other way I can get it that fast is . . . Kritiker said they’d take me back any time, but . . . Ken, I don’t think I can do that again. Not for pay.”

Ken nodded. “Omi wouldn’t want blood money. But he wouldn’t want you to whore yourself, either.”

Yoji squeezed Ken’s hands until they turned white. “He can never know. You cannot tell him. Ken, if you tell him, I will never forgive you. I swear it. He’s going to go to school and become a great doctor and he’s going to pay me back, having always believed that I’d just taken a side job. Do you hear me?” Yoji growled.

Ken gaped. ~*I can’t lie to a team member.*~

//You’re not on a team anymore, are you? Besides, it’s not your tale to tell.//

~*But it was yours?*~

//Hell, it starred me.//

“Schuldich, I hate you,” Ken said flatly, but his eyes were locked on Yoji. “Yoji. Tell me this prick didn’t hurt you.”

Yoji swallowed. “Up until this moment, no.” Brittle green eyes flicked over to him.

Schuldich felt guilty as hell, then. //Fuck. Kudo . . . I . . .//

But Yoji wouldn’t hold his gaze. “Ken. Swear it to me. Swear you won’t tell Omi. Schuldich, you either. Swear it.”

Eventually, Ken nodded. Schuldich shrugged. He wouldn’t outright lie if Omi ever asked him, but how likely was that? “Yeah, fine.”

Yoji relaxed. “Ken, I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

Ken let go of Yoji’s hands. “I . . .” ~*Oh, Yoji. I didn’t know you were gay. It’s gotta be hard, all you’ve gone through.*~ “I don’t want to keep going, Yoji, if I can’t trust you. I need to trust you guys.”

“I would never sell you out,” Yoji said. “Even if I did sell my own body.”

Schuldich was pissed. “Would you stop it!” he said harshly. “You killed, yes. You whored, yes. You did what you had to, to survive. That’s just the way the world works. I’m tired of you running yourself down over it.”

Yoji blinked. “You mean, why bother, when I’ve got you to do it for me?”

Schuldich sucked in a breath. Why had he done that to Yoji? Yoji had never hurt him . . . Well, he was going to deny sleeping with Schuldich, but . . . that had hurt his pride. Just his pride. Yoji was trying to protect the people he loved most and still scrape by with some dignity, and Schuldich had just ripped that all to hell for him.

He hung his head. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled into his chest.

Yoji and Ken looked at him like he’d grown three heads. 

“Who are you and what have you done with Schuldich?” Ken breathed out.

Schuldich rolled his eyes. //Yes, that’s right. I forgot. I’m pure evil. I have no human emotions whatsoever. I’d been plotting this all along, seducing Yoji for the very moment you’d coming running past this diner. Bwahahaha, my diabolical plans are now complete.// “Oh, and fuck you.”

Yoji cocked his head to the side, looking weary. “Schu? I don’t think I can do this anymore. It’s like you’ve got two halves or something. One minute you’re so sweet, the next, you’re . . .”

“It’s a mind game, Yoji. He’s just fucking with your head,” Ken insisted.

“Are you a telepath?” Schuldich barked. “No? Then maybe you shouldn’t speak for my intentions.” He turned back to Yoji. “Look, Kudo, I don’t really give a fuck if your whole team knows you’re a host or if we fuck all night long or if the rest of Schwartz is in the ocean or not, because it’s the truth. If they can’t handle that, fuck them.”

Ken held up his hands. “What do you mean, Schwartz is . . . You probably orchestrated this whole thing, all this time. And you’re going to act like you didn’t know?”

“Know what?” Yoji asked tiredly.

“About Nagi.”

Schuldich’s little world just stopped. Stopped. Right like that. Everything froze and narrowed to a single point—a pair of sad brown eyes.

“What did you say?”

“Nagi. He’s not in the ocean. He’s at Omi’s,” Ken said. “You’re both trying to worm your way into Weiss, aren’t you? Where’s Farfarello? And Crawford? Are they after Ran?” Ken shot to his feet.

Schuldich yanked him back down and grabbed up his collar. He hauled Ken across the booth and got in his face. “Take me to Nagi. Now.”

“No way. I’m not leading you to anyone else on my team. I have no idea what you’re up to, but—”

Yoji gently uncurled Schuldich’s fingers and cupped his face, turning Schuldich toward him. “Schu. I’ll take you there,” he said softly.

He and Ken both blinked, surprised. 

“Yoji—” Ken started.

“It’s a member of his team, Ken,” Yoji said firmly. “Furthermore, if he wants the information bad enough, he’ll just pluck it out of your mind and you won’t like it. He won’t hurt Omi.”

“How do you know?”

Yoji thinned his lips. “He just wants Nagi.”

“But, Yoji, how can you be sure?”

Yoji lowered his voice, still stroking Schuldich’s face. “I can feel it.”

Schuldich was doing his best not to tear up or embarrass himself, but this news—which he could sense from Hidaka was absolutely true—this news filled him with hope and a bizarre kind of joy. 

He’d never really liked the kid; Nagi had always been Bradley’s pet project. But they had Brad in common, and that was something Schuldich treasured. “Take me to him. Or bring him to the Omni. I don’t care. I just . . . Hidaka, please . . .”

Ken looked taken aback. “I . . . He can’t come see you just yet.”

“Why not?” Yoji asked, curious.

Schuldich searched Ken’s mind. 

He could see Nagi, his arm and leg in casts, tiny scars on his otherwise flawless face. He sucked in a breath. “Oh God, Yoji. He’s hurt.”

Ken nodded, somewhat subdued at Schuldich’s reaction. “Apparently, Omi fished him out of the ocean and has been playing doctor, hiding Nagi in his dorm since he started med school. I think . . . I don’t know what to think. I didn’t know all this until two days ago when I popped round and found the boy lying on Omi’s bed.” He pointedly looked at Yoji. “I left you a message, but you didn't call me back and I didn't want to tell you over the phone . . . There’s only one bed,” he blurted out.

Yoji frowned. “You think . . . ?”

“He didn’t say and I definitely did not press. He's probably sleeping on the floor. But they seemed very attached. So when I saw you with Schuldich . . .”

“I see,” Yoji said. “You thought this was a Schwartz plot.” Yoji looked over at Schuldich. “Is it?”

//How can you ask me that when you can sense how much I want to see Nagi?//

~You’re very good at betraying and deceiving people.~

Schuldich glared. “Then why bother to ask me, since you won’t trust what I say? I haven’t lied. I never lied to you, since Tarot.”

Ken frowned. 

Yoji shook his head. “You just browbeat my friend with the knowledge of our relationship, so, you’ll forgive me if I’m not on warm, fuzzy, trusting terms with you.”

“You were going to lie about us,” Schuldich said, folding his arms. 

“Schuldich,” Yoji said sharply, “there’s a difference between lying and being discreet. I expected better of you.”

And that was Yoji’s fault, not his, but, he still felt awful. “I know. You expect the best of people. Because you’re a hero, Yoji.” He smiled softly. “I keep trying to tell you . . . I’m not like you. But you’re too stupid to listen.” He turned to Hidaka. “Ken. Think whatever you want of me, but know that Yoji is still Yoji. He got mixed up in all of this with the best of intentions.”

Schuldich stood. //Take me to Omi’s?//

Yoji eyed him. “Pay the bill first.”

Schuldich was already fishing for his wallet. He dumped a wad of cash on the table and gently pushed Ken to his feet and out of the way. 

“I’m coming too,” Ken insisted.

Schuldich looked at Yoji, who simply nodded. ~If you think I’m over protective of Omi, you’re just gonna love Ken. You better let him come and see for himself that you’re not the anti-Christ.~

Sighing, he nodded. “Good thing I stole a car with a backseat yesterday.”

He walked out of the diner without looking back.

~*~

Ken just could not get a handle on Schuldich. 

The orange-haired German drove like a bat out of hell—sometimes relying on telepathy to suggest that other cars let him pass. Yoji sat up front, his hands splayed on the dash, except to point left or right, but they were clearly speaking mentally.

Every once in a while, Schuldich would send Ken a very vivid mental image of Yoji and him having sex. Which grated on his nerves. Not because he had a thing for Yoji, as Schuldich obviously suspected (although to be fair, everyone in the world probably had a least a little bit of a thing for Yoji, seeing as how he was so handsome and charming) but because Schuldich had managed to spread Yoji’s legs in a matter of days, it seemed, whereas Ken had been rebuffed years ago.

Years. He’d carried a torch for Aya . . . Ran . . . for years. And now, Schwartz knew that.

//You are a slow learner, Hidaka. What the hell would Schwartz care if you want to hump Fuijimiya? You both were on the target list, so it’s not like it mattered. Besides, there is no Schwartz.//

~*And yet, two Schwartz members pop up in my life, in less than two days. Funny, that. Oh, and by the way? Fuck you very much.*~

“Che.”

“Schuldich,” Yoji murmured.

Schuldich shrugged, but sent Ken the mental image of him rimming Yoji.

“Augh.”

Yoji turned around. “Ken?”

Ken closed his eyes and shook his head. “Can you make him stop?”

“Schu, I swear to fucking God—”

“Okay, all right, all right,” Schuldich said. “Ken, your mommy says I can’t play with you anymore. How much farther?”

Yoji pointed to the tall buildings up ahead that marked the beginning of Tokyo University’s campus. “Not far.”

Schuldich nodded. 

~*Schuldich?*~

//I’m driving. What do you want?//

~*You didn’t hurt him, did you?*~

Silence, then: //No.//

~*Why not?*~

Schuldich thinned his lips and didn’t answer.

“Right up here,” Yoji murmured.

Why was Yoji being so nice to Schuldich? Like Schuldich was gonna snap or something. Why were they helping him? 

//Because you’re heroes. It’s just what you do. You hate me, Hidaka, but if you found me lying there on the side of the street, would you really just let me lay?//

~*Yes.*~

Schuldich looked at him in the rearview mirror.

~*All right, no. I would have called an ambulance and handed you over to the police.*~

//Uh huh.//

Whatever. Schuldich was a mind reader. If Nagi wanted to be found, surely Schuldich would have found him in the last half year.

//That’s why I have to check on him. I should have picked up his signal . . . But I didn’t . . .// 

In his mind, Schuldich sounded strained. Frayed, almost. 

~*He’s fine. A little worse for wear, but fine. You can probably take him with you in the car, if you’re careful.*~

“Of course I’m fucking taking him with me!” Schuldich bellowed.

Yoji blinked.

Ken let out a breath. “You really didn’t know he was alive . . .”

Schuldich sighed and sulked. Yoji reached over and covered his hand—Ken really wished he could hear what they were thinking. Schuldich stroked his thumb over Yoji’s knuckles and nodded . . . It all spoke of . . . intimacy.

“Park in the visitor lot,” Yoji said. “We’ll walk.”

Schuldich didn’t walk—he stalked. “I can’t sense him at all,” he grumbled.

“Has this ever happened before?” Yoji asked.

Schuldich threw up his hands. “And even then . . .”

“Well, maybe . . .”

“No. I don’t know.”

“But—”

Schuldich spun around and looked at Yoji with wide eyes.

Ken had no idea what they were saying to each other, but it was clear that Schuldich was getting more and more upset.

“Guys! I’m thinking if you go up to Omi’s unit like this, it’s going to freak them both out,” he said, mostly to Schuldich. “Can you just chill?”

Schuldich straightened his shirt and huffed. “Lead the way, Hidaka.”

Nodding, Ken opened the honors’ dorm door and took the stairs quickly—Schuldich was hot on his heels—three flights, and they were in front of Omi’s door. (Omi, thanks to the scholarship, had a single. Which is why no one yet discovered Nagi living in the dorm. How much longer that would last now that Omi’s scholarship had run out . . .)

Ken knocked.

“Just a minute!” Omi called cheerfully. He opened the door, a well-chewed pencil behind his ear, a bandana just above his blond bangs. He was in his pajamas. “Ye—Ken! Hey!”

Schuldich pushed Ken out of the way and towered over Omi, driving the boy back into the room with the sheer force of his gaze. 

“Omi—” Ken started.

“Where is he?” Schuldich asked quietly. Deadly, but quiet.

Omi gaped. 

Yoji stepped across the threshold and held both of Omi’s arms—~*probably a good idea at this point*~—and said softly, “I’ll explain everything. Right now, we need to see Nagi.”

Omi blinked owlishly. “How did you . . . ? Why is he . . .?”

Schuldich rounded on him. “Is he here?”

The single unit was not that big—a kitchenette, a living and work area, then a bathroom and a bedroom. Schuldich opted for the bedroom.

“Can’t he sense him?” Omi murmured.

“No. And I want to know why.” Schuldich walked across the room like he owned the place and swung open the door.

Ken heard the gasp—Nagi.

“Sc-Schu?”

~*~

Yoji watched as Schuldich stalked to the bedroom. The German was making no effort at all to hide his feelings—probably because he was so shaken, Yoji suspected. Schuldich was pissed off at the diner, that much was obvious. But the minute Ken said Nagi’s name, it was like someone flipped a switch. 

Schuldich’s urgency pulled at him, like a string wrapped around his belly. Outwardly, Schuldich was cold and rigid, but there were easy tells. The way he’d touched Yoji’s hand. That apology earlier. And the way he was totally focused on Nagi. Schuldich was acting like a big bad papa bear, or something.

//Fuck you very much for that, Kudo.//

~It’s true, though.~

Schuldich opened the bedroom door.

Nagi gasped. “Sc-Schu?”

//Nagi!// Without a word, Schuldich went to the bed, sat down, and pulled the boy into his arms. 

Shocked, Nagi went without protest. He clung to Schuldich, and Schuldich put his hand on the boy’s head and let out a choked breath. 

Then he pulled back and frowned. 

“You’re . . . you’re alive,” Nagi whispered.

“Why can’t I read you?” Schuldich said harshly, cupping Nagi’s face. 

Nagi fisted Schuldich’s shirt. “You’re alive.”

“Nagi . . .?” Schuldich finally took notice of the casts—one on Nagi’s left forearm, and the other on his right calf and foot. 

“I . . . Schu, I . . .” Nagi suddenly brightened, (Yoji had never once seen the boy smile) and he said, “You came back for me.”

“Of course I did.” Schuldich sounded offended. “Nagi . . . you can’t hear anything I’m projecting, can you?”

Nagi shook his head. “Not a bit.” He sighed. “I . . . I can’t move anything, either.”

Schuldich frowned. “Your power?”

“It’s gone.”

//What the fuck has Omi done to him?// Schuldich thought angrily.

Yoji glared. “I’m certain Omi didn’t hurt him.”

Peering around the doorframe, Omi said, “I treated his wounds.”

“Omi’s been . . . Schu, Omi saved my life.” Nagi looked up at Schuldich guiltily. “I know this looks bad, being with him, but Schu, he’s not in Weiss anymore, so . . . so . . ." Nagi deflated. "It doesn’t matter though, does it? They won’t take me back without my power.”

Schuldich looked over at Yoji for a moment and said, “Take you back?”

Nagi frowned. “Farf. Crawford. I’ll just be a burden to them.”

Schuldich looked like he wanted to swallow his own tongue. Yoji could sense how much this was gonna hurt. “Nagi . . .”

The boy looked over at him. “Where are they? Where’s . . . Schu?” his voice went low.

Schuldich cupped Nagi’s face. “Brad is dead,” he whispered. “I felt it.”

Nagi sucked in a breath, but he didn’t show any outward emotion. “Farf?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t linked with him, when . . . He could be alive. You are.” Schuldich petted Nagi’s hair back—unconsciously, Yoji could tell. 

“Oh.” Nagi looked down.

Ken was looking at Yoji, so he turned and shrugged his shoulders. This was beyond whacked. 

“Why can’t I read you?” Schuldich asked again, running his hands over Nagi as if checking for a wound or a device or maybe just to make sure Nagi was real. 

“After the fall, Nagi sustained head injuries,” Omi said softly. “When I took him in, he was unconscious and in a light coma for several days. I didn’t think he would make it. When he woke up, he didn’t remember who he was for a while. He hasn’t had his power since then.” Omi turned to Yoji. “As I told Ken, I didn’t think he was any threat without the telekinesis, and even if he was, I took an oath . . .”

“The hippo oath something,” Ken said.

“Hippocratic, you moron,” Schuldich muttered. //For once, I’m glad you’re all White Knights.//

~Schu . . .~

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Omi murmured. “I . . . Yoji, I didn’t mean to betray . . .”

Ken snickered. “Trust me, you pale in comparison.”

Omi frowned.

“Ken,” Yoji started.

//If you rat Yoji out to Omi I swear to God I’ll wrap your tonsils around your testicles and let you bleed to death.//

Ken blinked. “I mean, we’ve all made stupid mistakes.”

“Nagi is not a stupid mistake,” Schuldich growled. He held the boy’s chin. “Can you walk at all?”

“Not really. I mean, I need a chair . . .”

“I’ll carry you.”

“Schu?” Nagi said, eyes wide.

Schuldich paused. “You’re coming with me, right? You’re coming home?”

Nagi’s eyes flicked to Omi.

Yoji stared hard at Omi. The boy seemed to be holding his breath. It was clear that neither one was very keen on Nagi leaving, but at last, Nagi puffed out a breath and said, “I’ll need . . . my things.”

Nagi’s ‘things’ consisted of two pairs of scrubs with an arm and a leg cut out, a drawing pad and pencil, and a bunch of stolen medicine from the university infirmary. 

Omi quietly put all this together in a plastic grocery bag. 

“Wait,” Schuldich suddenly said. “I can’t take you to the Omni.”

Nagi frowned. “The Omni?”

“Yeah. I was . . .” Schuldich glanced at Yoji and Ken. “I was staying in fancy hotels and using my name.”

“Why?”

“Trying to draw them out. I went for walks. I dropped my name a few places. So far, nothing.”

Nagi cocked his head to the side. “You’re trying to draw out . . . Esset? Why don't you just call them?”

Schuldich nodded. “I opted out of being on the payroll anymore.” He fiddled with Nagi’s bunched neckline. “Didn’t seem much point, after . . .”

“Schu.” Nagi grabbed Schuldich’s hands. “Schu, they’ll kill you. They’ll do worse.”

“I know. That is, if they’re still around. It’s been dead-quiet since . . .”

Nagi shrugged. “That doesn’t mean anything. They only ever talked to Brad anyway.”

“I, um . . . Brad had some money in an account. I sort of took it.”

The boy shook his head. “So?”

“So, they’re probably going to want it back. It’s close to a million bucks.”

Nagi laughed.

At this point, Yoji and Ken exchanged looks. Were both Schwartz crazy?

Nagi sobered. “Which account?”

“I told you. Brad’s. I read all the information right out of the teller’s mind and withdrew it. I’ve got several new accounts, of course, in different names, but Esset . . .”

Nagi shook his head again. “Dummy. That’s not Esset’s.”

“What?” Schuldich scrunched up his nose.

“Brad said he’d put aside some. For me. He called it the College Fund. I never actually thought he was serious . . .”

Schuldich sat back down on the bed. “You’re telling me Brad put aside almost a million bucks, for you to go to school?”

Nagi shrugged. “He said so. I didn’t think much about it. You were all dead . . .”

Yoji and Ken and Omi all just sort of stared. 

“Okay,” Yoji said. “Let me recap? One, Omi secretly saved Nagi from the sea, bandaged him up, and took him in. Nagi’s got a slippery memory and can’t use his powers. You’ve been stealing money not from Esset,” Yoji said to Schuldich, “but from Nagi, since Crawford apparently had the foresight—no pun intended—to put together a nest egg for Nagi. Have I got this right?”

//You left out the part where I pay you to fuck me, but yeah.//

Yoji shook his head.

“Yoji-kun. What are you and Ken-kun doing with Schuldich?” Omi asked.

Schuldich threw Yoji a look.

“I . . .”

“We found him,” Ken said. “At a diner.” The young man cleared his throat. “We talked, one thing led to another, and he insisted we bring him here. I’m sorry to barge in like this, Omi.”

Omi shrugged. “The war is over. And Nagi . . . Nagi has another friend in the world. I’m happy.” He sounded like he was ready to cry.

“Omi . . .” Nagi breathed.

“Even so,” Schuldich said. “I want to take you to a different hotel. I’ll put us under another name. Maybe we’re not important enough for Esset to bother with anymore. Then again, maybe they’re buying their time until . . . they’ll find a way to make use of me, and you know too much . . .” Schuldich ran a hand through his orange hair. “We have to go to ground.”

“I’m tired, Schu. I’m too young to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. I’m tired.”

Yoji could sense Schuldich’s conflicting emotions—frustration, and a kind of compassion. But fear won out—fear of Esset. 

“Nagi.” Schuldich squared his shoulders. “You don’t have your power. You’re defenseless. You don’t just think they’ll let us go, do you? Eventually they’ll recover and . . . Nagi, I don’t know. Brad was the pre-cog. I just have this feeling like . . . we’re being watched.”

Nagi nodded. “I’ll go wherever you go, Schu.”

//You’re all I’ve got,// Schuldich thought, not even aware that he’d broadcast it to the three Weiss. “I’ll take care of you. Get you back on track.”

Nagi nodded. “More like I’ll take care of you, you arrogant foreigner.” 

Schuldich hugged him again. “Nagi.” //Bradley thought of you like a son. I won’t abandon you.//

Ken twitched, uncomfortable that he could hear Schuldich’s thoughts. Omi just blinked rapidly. 

Yoji, however, was concerned. 

“I’m sorry about Brad,” Nagi whispered as Schuldich prepared to heft him off the bed.

“Fuck him,” Schuldich grunted, lifting Nagi up gingerly. “Bastard made his own choice.”

Wisely, Nagi said nothing. Neither did Yoji.

“I’ll help carry your things. You drove here, right?” Omi asked.

“Just give him the meds,” Schuldich said. 

Reluctantly, Omi handed Nagi the bag of medicine. “I guess . . . I guess this is goodbye.” 

“Omi,” Nagi whispered. “I . . .”

Omi smiled bravely. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? The room’s going to be empty without you.”

“Omi.” Nagi looked away.

//Omi.// Schuldich looked at Omi for a long time. “Thank you.”

Omi bowed slightly. “The instructions are on the bottles. He’s still got a long way to go before those casts come off, so, don’t undo all my hard work by letting him walk around.”

Schuldich smirked. “Chain him to the bed if I have to.”

Ken got the door. “Will you be all right?” he asked softly. 

Yoji smiled. Ken was still a softie, for all his blustery talk.

Schuldich winked. “My hero.”

Yoji watched Schuldich tenderly carry Nagi across the threshold. ~What about . . . ?~

//I’ll find you.//

He swallowed, inexplicably sad. But he understood. Schuldich needed to look after Nagi right now, and Yoji was an extra complication. Besides, it’s not like they were real lovers or anything.

//Afraid I’m gonna ride off into the sunset without you?//

~You know where I work,~ Yoji sent back coldly. ~Provided Nagi doesn’t mind his college fund going to pay for my time.~

//All this trouble over a college education. Don’t be bitter, kitten. Nagi’s never been stingy.//

And then Schuldich was silent, probably out of range. 

Yoji leaned against the door and sighed. He felt raw. Tired and raw and his ass hurt and his heart hurt and try as he might, the last hour just didn’t make any sense, so he stopped trying to make sense of it all and just rubbed his eyes. 

Omi sat quietly on the bed, staring out the window. Ken stood by the door with his arms folded.

“Are you mad at me, Yoji-kun?”

“No,” he said immediately, opening his eyes. “I think you did the right thing.”

Omi smiled a little. “I’m glad. Can we . . . ?”

“Never tell Aya?” Yoji finished for him. “Good call.”

Ken reluctantly nodded. “Well. They’re out of our lives, at least.” He shot Yoji a look. “Right?”

Yoji chewed on his lip. “Right,” he finally said. “It’s over.”

He was going to have to take on more clients in order to keep Omi at Tokyo University, now that Schuldich’s moneybags now belonged to Nagi. Though inwardly, the thought of bedding anyone else (for money, no less) made him sick. 

One look at Omi, however, surrounded by books and papers and his anatomy modules . . . the kid was going to make an excellent doctor, even if Yoji had to go back to Kritiker for it. It didn’t matter how much he sinned; he’d make up for it with Omi’s brand new life. 

“Omi-tachi? You all right?”

“Of course, Yoji-kun. It was just all very abrupt. I’d gotten used to him here, is all.”

Yoji sat down on the bed and put his arm around the blond boy. “I can’t imagine sharing such a small space with him. What was it like?” he asked curiously.

Omi smiled. “He didn’t talk much. In fact, the first month, he’d said less than what he said this afternoon. But I didn’t mind. It was just nice having someone . . .” He shrugged. “Around.”

Ken looked pained. “Omi. Yoji tells me your scholarship is gone after this semester.”

Omi shot Yoji a look, but there was no point in denying it. “Yeah.”

“You can crash at my place,” Ken offered. “It’s small, but . . .”

“Or mine, if you want,” Yoji quickly offered. “I work nights and you do days, so it’s not like we’d get in each other’s way.”

Omi teared up. “You’re both very sweet. But I don’t see how . . . there’s no way I can keep this up without a scholarship. I’ll take a semester off and reapply for aid. Maybe someone else will pick me back up . . .”

“I said I’d get you the money,” Yoji bit out. “Put your faith in me.”

“But it isn’t right—”

“It isn’t a question of right,” Yoji interrupted. “We do what we gotta do, and that’s all there is to it.”

Ken cleared his throat. “Sounds like someone we know.”

Yoji glared at him. Okay, maybe he was talking like Schuldich, but that didn’t make it any less true. “Omi. Keep going. I’ll figure something out. In the meantime, Ken’s and my door is always open, okay?”

Omi nodded tiredly. “I can’t fight you both.”

“I’ll chip in too,” Ken said quietly, looking at Yoji. “I can take up a weekend job for a while. Not like I’ve got anything else to do.” He grinned. “Or anyone begging for my time.”

Omi chuckled. “You guys are like older brothers. You’re the best.”

Yoji ruffled his hair and got up. “Well. We interrupted you while you were studying. Better let you get back to it. But what’s say we all get together for dinner or something next weekend?”

“I’d like that, Yoji-kun.”

Ken nodded. “I’m going to the subway station too. I’ll walk you.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “Bit of a ride back.”

Yoji nodded and playfully rapped on Omi’s cheek. “Okay, kiddo. Try and put all this out of your mind. I’ll call you and we’ll be by in a few days for dinner, ’kay?”

Omi nodded vigorously. 

Ken clapped Omi on the back and then followed Yoji out the door.

They walked across the quad silently. Yoji waited, because he was certain Ken had a million questions.

But Ken only asked one: “You’re not stupid enough to fall in love with him, are you?”

Yoji stopped short. “What kind of a fucked up question is that?”

“Funny thing about giving your virginity to a guy,” Ken said to the overcast sky. “Even when you know he’s betrayed you and fucked you over and left you to the wolves . . . you still love him a little bit. He was your first.” 

Yoji swallowed, knowing full well that Ken was talking about Kaze. “Ken . . .”

Ken shrugged. “Then again, you’re not as stupid as I was. Right?”

Yoji hooked his arm around Ken’s neck and pulled him close. “Dumbass.”

“Right.”

Yoji went straight home and emptied a quarter of a bottle of whiskey in a matter of seconds. Then he leaned on the balcony window and cried, without shedding a tear. He just shook.

Outside, heavy rain started.

Three days and nights passed, each hour excruciating. Yoji didn’t sleep much. He stared up at the ceiling, watching the car lights throw shadows from one corner to the other, until daybreak. He dozed during the day, dressed up, and went to Tarot at night.

He manned his table and went through the motions, sizing up each of his clients, trying to figure out which one to pick to bed, and how to even broach that topic with anything like dignity or what would seem like enthusiasm. 

He couldn’t do it, though.

He kept expecting Schuldich to saunter through the front door any minute, run the other guys off with a thought, and demand that Yoji come home with him.

Except he didn’t know where Schuldich called home these days, and now, he was living with a broken teenage assassin. Sorta put a damper on the mood. 

Yoji sighed when his last customer left with an oblivious smile on his face, as the bartenders closed up Tarot for the night.

“Diva? Are you all right?” Masa asked gently from the stairway.

“Yeah, Boss. Just tired a little.”

“Did that foreigner wear you out this weekend?” Masa joked.

~Down to my bones.~ “More like I wore him out.” Yoji tried to grin.

“Was it as easy as you expected?”

Yoji shook his head. “I don’t know. It wasn’t bad. I might . . . I might have a go with the others. Maybe . . . maybe next week.” Omi needed the money soon. 

“Good to hear. I’ll put the word out?”

Swallowing, Yoji made a noncommittal answer and got up to leave. “I better get home before I fall asleep at the table.”

“Good night, Diva.”

“Night, Masa.”

The subway trip home, usually a relaxing, quiet ride at this hour, just grated on his nerves. It was drizzling a bit; staining the pavement a dark grey. 

He walked into his lonely little apartment and didn’t bother with the locks or the lights. He took off his shoes and threw them against the wall.

~Fuck Schuldich. Fuck the whole thing, then.~ 

Sighing, he thought about a drink, but it’s not like he had extra money for such things and it never really helped. Instead, he switched on the radio, found a station that was playing some sort of meditative music, and sat down with his legs crossed.

He let himself relax, tried to clear his mind. His whole body yearned for Schuldich, and he couldn’t suppress that, so he just let it wash over him.

He sat quietly with the pain, and let the chanting, the violins and drums, the warmth of the music, float on the air around him, until he was focused, centered.

Until he could almost bear to breathe in and out, and not hurt.

He lifted his face up to the moonlight, closed his eyes, and just let go.

Suddenly, a knock at the door.

A little surprised, Yoji got up and padded over. None of his neighbors ever bothered him and he couldn’t imagine one of the boys visiting him at four in the morning. He didn’t have a peep hole, (his apartment was old and cheap) so he just cracked open the door. 

Schuldich stood there, his forearms resting on either side of the doorframe, a tight, sad expression on his face. His hair hung over his shoulders, wet from the rain. He just looked at Yoji.

Yoji’s mouth dropped open and he let go of the door.

Without a word, Schuldich stepped inside, slammed the door shut with his foot, and dove at Yoji. They toppled to the floor.

Yoji wound his arms around Schuldich and they kissed—no questions asked, no quarter given. 

Schuldich whimpered and pulled him up close. 

They rolled over and over, Yoji on top, his hands smoothing over Schuldich’s hair and face, then Schuldich on top, his hands tearing at Yoji’s pajamas bottoms. 

They kissed and kissed and kissed, all thought melting and bleeding out into nothing. Naked, shivering, Schuldich hesitated, cupping Yoji’s face and just looking at him. 

He pushed in—dry, it hurt and Yoji cried out—but it was good. Schuldich was reverent, holding him carefully, fucking him slowly, their eyes locked.

Yoji panted and stared up at Schuldich. The music and moonlight wafted over them; it was like a ritual. He’d never seen Schuldich so naked before, so hungry. He sobbed a little and pulled the older man to him.

Schuldich went very, very slowly, drawing it out forever, and Yoji could feel the German in his mind, taking away his pain, replacing it with pleasure. The room faded away, until they were floating in warm water, the sky glittering with stars above them, the sound of the music filling up all the spaces between things. 

Yoji gasped, “Schu.”

Schuldich kissed him and brought Yoji’s thigh up over his rump, driving in deeper. 

~Yes, yes . . . Deeper in me . . .~

Schuldich hung his head, lapping at the sweat pooling in the hollow of Yoji’s throat. //I missed you, baby.//

Yoji nodded and clung to Schuldich. ~Didn’t think you’d come back . . .~

“I told you I’d find you,” Schuldich whispered, lifting up on his elbows. //I felt you calling me all the way across the city.//

Yoji strained up to kiss him. It was so good.

Stars whirled around them. The water changed colors. ~Where are we? Is this in your mind?~

//It belongs to both of us. You’re open enough that I can do this with you . . .//

“It’s beautiful,” Yoji whispered.

The music swelled, as did the water and the moonlight, until he felt like he was going to fly apart and dissipate into the sky.

Schuldich kissed him and they came together, like a wave crashing. 

“Ugh!” Yoji arched his back slightly.

“Yoji,” Schuldich whispered, lowering himself gently to Yoji’s chest. 

He cradled the German there for quite some time. When he finally opened his eyes, it was right at dawn, and the whole apartment looked dusky with gold and pink. The breeze came soft and sweet through the windows. Everything was fragile, then. Tender. Especially Schuldich, who looked at him with clear green eyes and kissed him like he might break.

They slept twined around each other, Schuldich sprawled over him possessively, like a blanket. 

“Will Nagi be all right alone?”

//Yes. I gave him his meds; he’ll be out of it for a while. I got us a house, you know.//

“What?” Yoji asked softly.

“I’m renting us a house. Near Tokyo University. He’ll be well enough to go in the spring.”

“O-oh.”

Schuldich smiled sleepily. “I think Omi might have had some bearing on that decision.”

“Hm.” Yoji stroked Schuldich’s hair. 

//In fact, I think Nagi wants to see Omi again.//

~I guess they’ve become . . . friends.~

//The thing about Nagi is . . . he doesn’t make friends. Up until the resurrection, Nagi wouldn’t let anyone touch him but Brad, and Brad wasn’t big on unnecessary touching.//

“Omi’s influence again?”

“Bombay got him to open up a little, trust the goodness in people again. I don’t think you realize it, but believe me when I say it’s nothing short of a miracle,” Schuldich murmured. 

“I’m glad,” Yoji said, still stroking Schuldich’s hair. 

“Nagi wants me to invite him to stay at our house,” Schuldich suddenly said.

Yoji froze.

“I thought it best to ask your permission first. Yours, and Ken's. And Ran’s, if you guys are even speaking to him these days.” Schuldich looked up at him. “I don’t have to be a telepath to guess your thoughts on this one, but, I give you my word, we won’t hurt him.” //I owe Omi more than I can ever repay.//

Yoji swallowed. “I can’t make his decisions for him, Schu,” he whispered. “He seemed okay with you on Saturday, but, he probably still holds you responsible for Ouka’s death and . . . I’m not sure he’ll want to room with you.”

It was an incredibly generous (and unorthodox) offer, and Yoji had to wonder if Schuldich had selfish reasons for making it.

“My reasons are entirely selfish. Nagi wants it, and Nagi is a pain in the ass to live with, if he doesn’t get his way. Also . . .” Schuldich trailed off and ran his forefinger around and around Yoji’s prominent hipbone. “He doesn’t blame me. Or Farfarello. He blames himself.”

Yoji winced. 

//I’d like to . . . make it up to him, not that I’m under any delusions that I ever can. But I mean . . . he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. Nagi wants to return the favor and give him a room. And I think they’d be good for each other. No one else their age understands what they’ve been through. I’d just be around to sign the checks and keep an eye on them until Nagi turns eighteen. Which is next summer.//

Yoji sighed. He trusted Nagi, the boy was just a boy after all, and didn’t even have his powers. He’d never been like the rest of Schwartz, and if Omi liked him and trusted him enough to live with him for six months in secret, then Yoji trusted his judgment. But Schuldich, on the other hand, was a loose canon, unpredictable at best and cruel and vicious half the time. He wasn’t sure he wanted Omi within fifty miles of Schuldich, actually.

“You’re right. I’m a bastard. That’s why I told Nagi I’d have to ask your permission. All of Weiss, actually.” Schuldich stretched and rolled over on his back. “It’s all more complicated than I usually like.”

Yoji turned on his side and watched Schuldich, his pale skin absorbing the weak sunlight. He was gorgeous. He was less than an inch from Yoji, and Yoji felt like he was too far away, even then. 

He kissed Schuldich’s pectoral and sent, ~You have my permission to ask him,~ through the link. 

Schuldich smiled. “One down. Two to go.”

“One to go,” Yoji corrected. “Ran will just have a shit fit.”

Schuldich frowned. “A lie of omission,” he murmured, “is still a lie. He won’t forgive you for it.”

Yoji sighed. “Then I guess it’s up to Omi to tell him. I know better.”

Schuldich pulled Yoji flush against him. “Kiss me again. Give me your mouth,” he whispered.

And Yoji did, sighing contentedly. ~Hold me, Schu.~

Schuldich hefted Yoji on top of him, kissing him deeply. They made love again, this time, Yoji thrusting between Schuldich’s legs.

They couldn't stop looking at each other; Yoji felt like he was seeing Schuldich from the inside.

If Schuldich noticed that Yoji had stopped thinking of it in terms of fucking, and started referring to it as making love, he didn’t protest.


	6. Chapter 6

Yoji sighed. He sat in front of Schuldich, his head bent back on the other man’s broad shoulder. They had eventually wandered over to the futon; it was slightly cooler away from the warm sunshine. The German was propped up on some pillows, against the wall, both hands clasped over Yoji’s belly.

Schuldich nuzzled him and hooked his chin over Yoji’s shoulder. //What is it, baby?//

~Nothing . . . just a lot to think about, lately . . . Yoji sighed. ~I don’t want him to go . . .~ He didn’t want to tell Schuldich that—hell, he didn’t even want to think that, himself, but there it was.

Schuldich squeezed him a little and kissed his shoulder. //It’s nice to be wanted. Don’t hold that back from me.//

Sighing again, Yoji tilted his head back and brought his arms up, tangling his hands in Schuldich’s hair. 

“I don’t want to leave,” Schuldich said softly. “But Nagi needs his meds. He’s . . . a lot more work than I expected.”

Yoji frowned.

//Omi must have taken diligent care with him. He’s . . . he’s pretty banged up.// “I think if it wasn’t for Omi, Nagi would be dead.” //Good thing Bombay went into medicine. I told you everything happens for a reason.//

Yoji turned around in Schuldich’s arms and kissed his chest, his neck . . . his chin. His mouth.

Schuldich leaned into it. //I love it when you taste like me.//

Eyes closed, Yoji burrowed into the crook of Schuldich’s neck and shoulder and sighed again. If only the outside world would leave them alone. He could be so happy if Schuldich would just stay like this.

Schuldich petted his hair. “You need to sleep, Kudo. You’ve not been taking care of yourself.”

Yoji nodded, his eyes drooping. “You need . . . to go . . .”

“I know.” Schuldich lowered him to the sheets. He hovered over Yoji for a while—Yoji could feel his welcome heat. The German gently kissed his way down Yoji’s spine . . . parted his cheeks . . . and slowly laved at him.

Yoji, half out of it, rolled his pelvis, lazily rubbing his cock against the futon. Schuldich’s warm hands massaged his back; his warm tongue probed Yoji deeply.

~Don’t want you to go . . .~

//Shh, baby.//

Schuldich turned him over and took him in his mouth. A few quick bobs, and Yoji came, his arm shielding his eyes, sighing Schuldich’s name. 

Schuldich lowered Yoji’s arm to his side and cupped his face. //Sleep.//

Yoji slept. 

~*~

Schuldich’s attention was split three ways. One, on his driving, which only required minimal effort, since he was between rush hours. Two, on Nagi, who needed his painkillers and a piss, Schuldich was guessing—it’s not like he could read or mind-speak with the boy. And three, he tapped Yoji, who was dreaming . . . dreaming of kissing him.

Fuck, Yoji was addictive. 

Schuldich had never wanted anyone the way he wanted Kudo. Granted, he’d been hot for Brad from the get-go. Brad was cold and controlling and always a challenge. When Brad was remotely tender or considerate, it’d made Schuldich ecstatic. But he’d never wanted to latch onto Bradley’s mouth and not let go for days. 

Yoji . . . Yoji didn’t even know how amazing he was. How much just being around him had changed Schuldich. Filled up the empty spaces.

He sighed. //Hang in there, Nagikins. I’m about four minutes away.// But all that greeted that thought was a silence. Not even static. Everyone else on Earth at least had some static. Nagi was . . . not even a busy signal. 

It worried Schuldich. No, actually? It made him want to shit his pants.

Something fucked up had happened to Naoe, and now that he’d got them settled into their safe house, he’d have to start peeling back layers to find out what went wrong. And he didn’t cherish the task. It would tax him, mentally and physically. And probably emotionally, too. 

He pulled into the driveway, slammed the door, and ran up the stone pathway leading to the backyard, such as it was. (Just grass and a line to hang up the wash, really.)

Their house was in the middle of plain-as-rice suburbia. It was a duplex, blue, with white trim—there was a living room, a dinning room, and a big kitchen, and then the house split. 

Upstairs there were two bedrooms; the big one had a bathroom and was situated over the garage. Downstairs was a tiny little apartment with a recreation room, a bathroom with a small shower, and a little room with a large closet. Schuldich set that up to be Nagi’s bedroom. It had a sliding glass door that led to the 'backyard.'

Clearly this house was built for a working family, complete with a grandparents’ suite, to look after the kids.

Schuldich entered through the glass door.

Nagi was on the bed, grimacing. “Where have you been?” he asked softly.

“Sorry. Taking care of things.” He reached over and swept up Nagi’s sweaty bangs. “Hurts?”

“Arm.” Nagi looked across the room at his bag of medicine.

Schuldich quickly went for it (he’d memorized the dosages, and which bottle was which, and when, and what the side effects were, and all that jazz) and handed Nagi two little blue pills. “Need—”

Nagi knocked them back, dry.

“Water?” Schuldich finished. 

Nagi blinked up at him. “It’s the arm. The leg doesn’t really hurt, it’s just weak . . . my arm hurts, Schu.”

Schuldich sat on the bed and squeezed Nagi’s good hand. “I could try again. To get inside. Take it away.”

Nagi shrugged. “You can try.”

Taking a deep breath, Schuldich closed his eyes and focused. He searched for Nagi’s mental thread—something, anything—a tether to the boy’s consciousness. If he could get inside, even if they couldn’t speak, he might be able to deaden Nagi’s pain response a bit. If he’d had a good breakfast and lots of sleep, he might even be able to redirect the boy’s neural impulses to help him heal faster. 

Schuldich wasn’t just a telepath. He was the Mastermind. He could influence thought, action, will, and emotion. He could almost control another person down to a molecular level, if he was really determined. 

But the price was always high. 

It didn’t just take his energy. Sometimes it felt like years of his life were getting siphoned out of him. Like doing such things drained his essence.

He’d try it for Nagi, though. 

“I can’t find you,” he whispered, frowning. “You’re right here, but it’s like, psychically, you don’t exist.”

Nagi frowned, lying back on the pillow. “I don’t know why. I’m sorry.”

Schuldich shook his head. “It has to be neurological. There’s no way you could block me out like this deliberately.”

Nagi’s face darkened. “Yeah?”

“I mean, you could block me, but I would at least feel a wall there. As it is . . . you’re empty.” He frowned down at Nagi. “I can’t do anything for you.”

The boy sighed. “You’ve done enough, Schu. You came back.”

Schuldich bit his lip. “Look, kid, don’t go expecting gushy sentimental stuff like this from me all the time,” he prefaced, “but I will never leave you behind, okay? It’s you and me. I will take care of you.” He sighed. “And I will find a way to fix you.”

Nagi peered at him.

For a long, long time.

And Schuldich couldn’t guess what he was thinking, either, which grated on his nerves. 

“What?”

Nagi shrugged, starting to relax now that the medicine was kicking in. “I . . . I think you mean it.”

“Of course I mean it!” Schuldich said, offended.

Nagi smiled slightly. “You, making promises? Not so much, in the past.”

Schuldich shrugged. It was true. He’d never actually said a kind word to Nagi in all their years together, let alone made him a promise. 

“I think I like you like this,” Nagi murmured, eyes downcast. “Like him.”

“Who?” Like Brad? Had Brad promised to take care of Nagi?

“Yoji.” Nagi looked up at him carefully. “I think . . . he’s good for you.”

Schuldich held himself very still. That was a lot to process. So what if they weren’t linked? He was stupid if he thought that Nagi couldn’t pick up on things. The boy was seventeen-going-on-seventy.

“He’s just a toy,” Schuldich said quickly. “A very expensive toy.”

“Meaning?”

Schuldich shrugged. “He’s a host; I buy him.”

Nagi wasn’t one to judge, street urchin that he once was, but he blinked owlishly for a minute, processing that. “I see,” the boy said, his voice now deep and sluggish with the drugs. “Now that we have a house and a car,” (Schuldich had leased a sensible Honda Civic, which drove him nuts, but was part of their cover,) “and I’ll be going to school, we have to watch our budget. And you need to get a job.”

Schuldich smiled. He suddenly remembered why he never liked this kid. He made too much damned sense. Sighing, Schuldich nodded. “Right. I’ll get a job. But Yoji’s my decision, Nagi. I’m not asking your permission.”

“It’s my money,” Nagi said sleepily.

“So you say Brad said. But there’s nothing in writing. I’m the one who got the funds together. And besides, if you don’t let me keep my pet, I’ll put your meds out of reach and pretend not to hear you when you call to go to the toilet.”

Nagi smiled. “You sound . . . very attached . . . to your toy.”

Schuldich sniffed. “I’m not done with him yet, is all.”

“Uh huh.”

Schuldich jerked a little bit. “Um . . . Nagi? Omi’s not supposed to know. About Yoji’s job. Ever.”

The boy nodded. “I’ll need a shower.”

Blinking, Schuldich tried to catch up with that little non sequitur. “When you wake up,” Schuldich said. “Where the hell did I put my cigarettes? This house is too big.”

“Outside,” Nagi said sharply.

Nagi hated it when Schuldich smoked indoors. So had Bradley, actually. They’d always ganged up on him to take his filthy habit outside, and it was never worth it to argue. Schuldich remembered that he’d left his pack and lighter out on the little balcony, over the garage. (He’d taken the master bedroom, naturally.) 

He’d only had three days to get his bank accounts switched around, find a house for immediate possession, get a car, and schlep Nagi out of the Omni. Luckily, he’d been able to find a fully furnished place that was ready for occupancy, and he’d ‘persuaded’ the realtor to let him take it without a credit check or complete application. They had the basics—a couch, a dining set, a TV. Two beds. Lamps. No towels or toiletries or food. The place was naked.

He needed to go shopping for more linens, and clothes for Nagi, and groceries, but he was tired. Nagi needed help with absolutely everything, and the past week had been hell.

“What did he say?” Nagi asked, on the verge of sleep.

Schuldich guessed by the tone that Nagi was asking about Omi moving in. “He gave me permission to ask.”

Nagi’s eyelids fluttered shut. “So . . . He trusts you.”

“Yeah, I guess he does.” Schuldich paused. “Weiss always was stupid.”

Nagi was out like a light. He brushed the boy’s bangs back, tucked the blanket up under his chin, and quietly padded across the carpet. “Don’t they know I’m a bad ass?” he whispered, carefully shutting the door. 

Up on the balcony, Schuldich lit up a smoke and took a long drag. There was a lot to think over. He’d estimated about three hours of solid sleep for Nagi, and then maybe another hour of leeway. Not a lot of time. They needed food. And drapes. Schuldich could not live without drapes . . . (It was probably a psychological thing, but he needed to be able to shut the world out, at the end of the day.)

He really wanted a nap, though . . . He was tired after fucking Yoji for hours.

Sighing, he tossed his hair over his shoulder and looked up at the brilliant, blue sky. Last night was . . . indescribable. Yoji’s heat. Yoji’s need. Yoji, wrapping around him, melding with him . . . He was in deep, deep trouble. Because that? That was not just sex. 

In a way, Schuldich felt like he was betraying Brad. 

But then, Brad had never wanted him that way to begin with. Brad had never been lonely. Never needed a connection. Brad had looked on his gift like it was a useful tool, but he never liked it. Bradley would never willingly go into Schuldich’s mind, or make love under the stars, or . . .

He shook his head. 

No idea where all this was going, but, undoubtedly, it was going to get very, very messy. 

He tapped Yoji’s mind. Still sleeping. Yoji was holding his pillow close to his chest and dreaming of Schuldich, because the pillow smelled like Schuldich, and because Yoji . . . didn’t want him to leave.

“Ah, fuck,” Schuldich swore, grinding his cigarette out. 

He should really go out, get some supplies. He should also troll the net, find a job. Something that he could stand to do for a while, anyway. There was plenty of paperwork waiting for him too, for Nagi’s enrollment into Tokyo University. And dinner wasn’t going to make itself.

Schuldich went inside, collapsed face-down on the bed, and promptly fell asleep. 

~*~

Ken had had a long day. Today was the annual test, when his kids had to run the mile for P.E., and inevitably, there were kids with nosebleeds and tummy aches and lots of whining and whatnot. Afterward, he’d coached the JV soccer league (which, by the way, sucked) and grabbed a quick meal at a noodles stand. When he’d gotten in, he’d just wanted a nice, comfortable pair of boxers, a porno, and a beer.

He had not expected to find Schuldich knocking on his door.

Schuldich raised up both hands. “I’m unarmed.” //And you left your bugnuks under the bed anyway, Hidaka. Let me in?//

“What are you—”

“I can answer that, if you’d let me come in. Unless you’d like me to discuss personal matters in the middle of your hallway.” Schuldich leaned over and whispered, “Misses Yaginuma is listening at her door, though . . . She’s very nosey!” he bellowed.

Ken winced and opened the door. ~*I must be crazy.*~ “How did you—”

Schuldich lifted an eyebrow and tapped his temple. “You’re pretty easy to find.”

Ken put his hands on his hips. “What do you want?”

The German sobered. “You and I need to have a serious conversation. And I get it; I know you hate me, and have fantasies about rearranging my innards with a pair of chopsticks; I get that. I don’t exactly have daydreams about us becoming the best of chums, either. But this is about Omi, so, I’m coming to talk to you seriously.”

Ken blinked and then held out his upturned palm, indicating that Schuldich should sit at the table. 

His apartment was ridiculously tiny, he knew. It was a small room with tatami mats; the kitchen had a sink, a two-burner stove, and three cupboards. There were two other doors, which led to a bathroom and a closet. That was it. There was a bed, a desk, and a two-seater dining set. And a few soccer posters lining the walls. 

//Is all of Weiss this poor?//

Ken frowned. “We were never in it for the money.”

“I would hope not, because it looks like you were sadly underpaid.”

“You said you were here to talk seriously?” Ken said, folding his arms.

“Yes. Hidaka . . .” Schuldich looked like he was at a loss, like he never really expect to get in past the front door. 

~*Is Omi hurt? In trouble? Where’s Yoji?*~

Schuldich held up a hand. “Whoa. They’re fine. This is just . . . a little hard for me to get out. Um . . .” He cleared his throat. “Look, just hear me out.”

Ken frowned and waited patiently. Well, patiently for him.

Schuldich, eventually, told him everything—Nagi’s recovery; Schuldich’s sense of obligation; their invitation; Yoji’s acquiescence. When he finished, Ken stared at the point right between the German’s eyes, wishing he could bore into the other man’s mind and see if he was for real. 

Ken’s emotions were . . . oddly calm. The anger, distrust, and confusion took a backseat to something else, something he couldn’t quite name.

“You’re asking me if Omi can live with you?”

Schuldich nodded. “Basically.”

“No, that’s not all . . . You’re asking if I can ignore the piles of dead bodies between us, the years of deception, and your own sadistic tendencies, so that I can give you permission to be unchaperoned in the same house with someone I think of as a little brother. Right?”

Schuldich swallowed. He straightened his shoulders. “The boy has nowhere else to go. Where’s he gonna fit in here, Hidaka? Gonna make him sleep in the closet? And Yoji’s apartment . . . Christ, I feel sorry for the cockroaches living there. You don’t have the money or the space for him in your lives. I do. Nagi wants him, so I’m here, asking you. And if you think this is easy, you got another think coming. Say the word, and I’ll be out the door.”

Ken stroked his chin. ~*I’m worried about what Omi will become, if he’s around the two of you. He’ll change into something I won’t recognize . . .*~ “We take care of our own.”

Nodding, Schuldich stood. “Sorry to waste your time.”

~*Stop,*~ Ken sent him, as the German twisted the doorknob. “It’s Omi’s decision. I can’t tell him what to do.”

Schuldich looked over at Ken. 

“If they listened to me in the first place, Yoji would never have become a host. He’d have killed you on sight. And Omi would have let Nagi drown.”

Bright, pulsing, irrational anger flashed in Schuldich’s eyes for a moment. But Ken was just being honest, after all.

“But I can’t run their lives for them; and I can’t protect them from pain, because, everyone gets hurt, Schuldich. To be alive means to hurt.”

"Che." Schuldich cocked his head. //Still waters run deep, huh? Never figured you for a philosopher, Kenken.//

“For someone that can read minds,” Ken said, “you seem awfully content to accept appearances. I’m not a great thinker, but on occasion, my brain actually functions beyond eat, sleep, and shit.”

Despite everything, Schuldich snickered. “You’re right.” He relaxed his shoulders a bit.

Ken eyed him. “Why don’t you sit back down? I was just about to make some tea.”

He wasn’t, actually. Schuldich probably knew perfectly well that he was planning on doing his usual routine—boxers, porn, beer, and bed. But the former Schwartz smiled and took the offer. //The things I do for you, Nagikins.//

Ken put the kettle on. “How is Nagi?”

Schuldich blinked. “He’s . . . the move was tough. He still hurts sometimes. But, other than that . . .” Schuldich turned the chair around and straddled the seat. “He’s doing really well, emotionally. Frankly, I’ve never seen him like this. That’s why I want Omi . . .”

Ken nodded and got out two mismatched mugs. ~*Thought so, too.*~ “Omi has that effect on people.”

“I guess he does.” Schuldich rested his chin on his fists. 

“You know, of course, if he does agree to this insanity, that if you do anything to him, we’ll torture you until you think Esset was a wetdream.” Ken said this pleasantly as he hunted in the cupboard for honey. 

Schuldich lifted a skeptical eyebrow.

“We beat you before,” Ken tossed over his shoulder. “We can do it again.”

There were circumstances that allowed Weiss to beat Schwartz, sure, but . . .

~*Don’t doubt me on this, Schuldich. Omi or Yoji. You hurt either of them, and I won’t just kill you. I’ll start by peeling Nagi’s skin off, strip by strip, and I’ll make you watch.*~

Schuldich blinked. “Well, well. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Ken sat a mug in front of him and poured out the kettle over a little bag of tea. Hot steam rose between them. “We all have it in us; that’s why I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. I don’t underestimate Omi, either.”

He poured for himself while Schuldich fiddled with the honey. //I think I’m starting to like you, Hidaka.//

“Great,” Ken said, blowing on his tea. “I suddenly want to take a shower.”

Smirking, Schuldich passed him the honey, but Ken shook his head. 

“There’s no need to hurt Omi,” Schuldich informed him. “Schwartz only took jobs for the pay, or because Esset told us to. Esset has, as far as I can tell, dissolved, and while I will be needing a job shortly, I doubt anyone has a contract on Omi’s head, so . . .”

“Okay, first off? I know you’ve killed because you’ve enjoyed it.”

//That was Farfarello.//

~*And you.*~

//When I was with Farfarello.// “But fair’s fair. I certainly didn’t mind.”

Ken hissed. “Second, did you just say you’re back in the business?”

Schuldich grimaced. “I don’t know. There’s not much else I’m good at, frankly.”

Ken snorted skeptically. “Bullshit. You’re a mind-reader. You could be a nuclear physicist if you wanted. You could at least fake it.”

The German sheepishly grinned. “Yes, but when I’m killing, I’m poetry in motion.”

Ken felt his face go slack. He was pissed.

“I’m kidding. Well, no, I mean, I am good at killing, but, I was thinking of getting a different kind of job. Don’t know what yet.” Schuldich ran a hand through his shock of orange hair. “But I’ve got to do something, because almost overnight, I’ve got house payments and car payments and a disabled teenager.”

“That is a lot of responsibility for someone like you to take on. Willingly.” Ken sipped his tea.

“Not to mention my lover’s a little pricey.” Schuldich watched as Ken swallowed sharply.

“You’re still gonna see him?”

Schuldich shot him a look. “Ken? How can you be a gay man and not notice that Yoji is quite possibly the sexiest thing on two legs? When we fuck . . . there should be a new word in the dictionary for sex that fantastic. Hell yes, I’m still seeing him.” Schuldich squeezed the teabag in his hand, smiling despite the fact that it had to burn, and then he threw it over his head, right into the wastebasket. He licked his hand clean and took another sip.

“Nice shot,” Ken said automatically. 

“Would you really skin Nagi over something I did?”

“In a heartbeat,” Ken said softly. “He’s your only weakness.”

“I don’t know about that.” Schuldich shifted uncomfortably. “But I don’t think you have it in you, Hidaka.”

Ken stared at him. “Let’s not find out, then.” Because, really, he did.

Schuldich nodded. //I get what you’re saying, Ken. I know where you’re coming from. I may not be a White Knight, but I know how White Knights think . . . I always know what you’re thinking.//

Ken sighed. “I don’t understand you at all. But I don’t have to. It’s Omi and Yoji’s choice. Weiss is over.” He pressed two fingers to his forehead and rubbed at his headache.

Schuldich touched his brow with one long index finger. “You need glasses, Hidaka. Your vision’s going.”

Ken looked up at him, startled. 

“I’d fix it for you, but it’ll just keep happening. The body’s just programmed to degenerate that way.” Schuldich shrugged. //You’d look hot with glasses, Kenken.//

Ken shook his head, but couldn’t help his smile. “You just have to keep pushing buttons, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I do. I really do. It’s my tragic flaw.” Schuldich grinned. “Do you think Omi will say yes?”

Ken immediately pictured the way Omi and Nagi looked at each other as Schuldich carried the broken boy out the door. “Yes,” he said softly. Sadly.

Schuldich suddenly said, “I’ll take care of them.”

Ken looked him in the eye. “You damn well better.”

And that . . . was that.

“Do you know of a grocery store near by?” Schuldich asked cheerfully.

Ken blinked.

~*~

Yoji was having a slow night. Possibly because he was tired (all the makeup in the world couldn’t hide the dark cycles under his eyes,) and he was a little distracted. Masa hadn’t said anything, but Yoji didn’t have to be a telepath to tell that his boss wasn’t too happy about it.

He’d had drinks with a few guys. Mostly, he sat at his table and pored over his books—Tarot was going to throw a costume party for Halloween. Masa really enjoyed capitalizing on foreign holidays. And hey, it was something new.

Yoji toyed with the idea of going as a catboy, but he was probably too old to pull it off. He sighed, sipping his drink, and looked over the list of caterers. He could probably get away with candy corn and cookies in the shape of ghosts and witches, but that seemed a little hokey for a place like Tarot. “What about a vampire theme?” he murmured to himself. 

They could cover the chandeliers with red satin and use candelabras instead of the lights; they could have the serving staff dress up in period costumes and get everyone a pair of fangs . . . serve red wine . . . put the hors d’oeuvres on tables shaped like coffins. 

//Trés chic.//

Yoji’s head snapped up. 

Schuldich was leaning on the side of his booth, smirking. 

“Schu,” he murmured, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

Schuldich shrugged. “Just dropping by. I was in the neighborhood.”

“Oh. Sit down?”

Schuldich shook his head and remained standing. “Slow night?”

Yoji nodded. “My client cancelled. A few newbies came over and talked, but, I’m kinda tired tonight.”

//My bad.//

~Damn straight.~ Yoji smiled.

“So, if you haven’t got a fella, do you have to stay?”

He frowned. Not really, but . . . he was sorta planning the party. 

//How about coming out with me? Doing a little research?//

“Research?”

“I need to get in some groceries. You can come with me, plan the menu.”

Yoji shot Masa a glance.

Masa was pretending not to notice Schuldich. His boss was concerned that Schuldich was driving Yoji’s other business away, but, as long as the money kept rolling in, he kept his mouth shut. 

Yoji actually liked Masa. (Considering he was little more than a pimp.)

Schuldich quirked an eyebrow. “I guess I’d be willing to pay for a few hours.”

“Just for grocery shopping?” Yoji asked.

The German tilted his head. //You can blow me in the car, if you feel guilty about it.//

Yoji tsked. “That’s my Schu. For a minute, I was worried you’d gone all soft and squishy on me.”

“Balinese,” Schuldich said, yanking Yoji up and pulling him over the table, “I promise to never disappoint you that way.” He kissed Yoji—more like licked his way inside Yoji’s mouth—and then tugged him out of the booth.

“Schu . . .”

Schuldich walked over to Masa and tossed a couple hundred yen at him. “Have him back before midnight, Masa-san.”

Masa smiled, (a fake smile, Yoji could tell) and bowed. 

~I think I’m in deep shit with him.~

//He’ll get the fuck over it. Just means you have to flirt with somebody new tomorrow night. I’m sure you can hook them in.// Schuldich squeezed his hand and led him to the parking lot.

Yoji stopped short. “Where’s your car?”

“Right here.”

“A Civic?”

“Shut up,” Schuldich growled. //At least I didn’t get a minivan.//

Yoji snickered and got in. He actually liked this car. The sports cars had made him nervous for some reason. Too flashy, like Schuldich had something to prove. Yoji liked speed, and he appreciated a hot ride just as much as the next man, but this . . . this was comfortable.

“You are fucked in the head. And that’s coming from me, Yo-tan.”

Yoji smiled. Schuldich was about to put the key in ignition, when Yoji reached over and cupped him through his jeans.

“Guh . . .”

Yoji shaped Schuldich roughly, moving his hand in slow circles. “Come on, let’s go.”

Shivering, Schuldich turned over the ignition. “Gonna make me wrap us around a lamppost.”

~I’m trying to prove to you that you even in a Civic, you can still get a thrill.~ He flattened his palm and moved it up and down, up and down, occasionally digging his nails into Schuldich’s thigh.

Schuldich licked his lips and peeled out of the lot. 

He drove surprisingly well, considering. The German’s eyes were narrowed into little slits of pleasure, sure, but he was still clearly in control. Yoji smiled wickedly and unzipped Schuldich’s pants.

Schuldich let out a long breath as Yoji began to jerk him off. Yoji paused, licked his hand, and resumed, and Schuldich gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. 

//Naughty kitty.//

~You can punish me later.~

“Oh don’t worry,” Schuldich said huskily. “I will.”

Yoji stroked harder. 

//Gott, katchan, Gott . . .//

It was weird, because Yoji didn’t know how to speak German, but he somehow knew that Schuldich had just said ‘God, kitten, God.’ Shaking his head, he rubbed his thumb across the slit of Schuldich’s dick.

//Want you so bad.//

~Uh uh uh. Drive.~

Growling, Schuldich sped up and swerved into the grocery store parking garage like a maniac. The second he parked, Yoji undid his seatbelt and bent over. He took Schuldich in his mouth, down to the root, and sucked.

Schuldich groaned and gripped his headrest. “Oh God . . . yeah . . .”

Yoji worked him. It was strange, but, he’d actually gotten to like giving head. Well, he’d never minded doing it for a woman, and it wasn’t too odd, doing it for a man. And he liked the taste of Schuldich’s come.

//Jesus Christ.//

~Quiet, I’m working here.~

Schuldich tensed and stopped breathing.

Yoji looked up at him and smiled tenderly. “I was kidding. I love hearing you.” He kissed Schuldich’s dick. “In my head, too. Don’t stop.”

Schuldich ran the back of his hand over Yoji’s cheek. “Yoji . . .”

“We’re gonna attract a crowd.” Yoji looked out the window at the shoppers taking their bags to their cars. “Can you wait?”

But Schuldich was just looking at him, stroking his face. Eventually, he nodded. //Kiss me anyway.//

Yoji did. He ate at Schuldich’s mouth until he was ready to come in his pants, and then reluctantly pulled away. “Groceries.”

“Cocktease.” But Schuldich pushed the car door open and got out, readjusting his pants. 

They got in the elevator—Yoji shivered when Schuldich deliberately brushed their arms together—and then they were in the store. It was one of the larger grocery stores, not a mom-and-pop shop like they had in his neighborhood.

//You live in the slums.//

Yoji nodded; no use denying it. “Girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do,” he said, getting a cart. “What do you need here?”

Schuldich waved a hand. “Everything. We’ve got nothing in the house.”

Sighing, Yoji navigated them to Aisle One. 

It was surprisingly easy to be with Schuldich like this. He was in an agreeable mood—playful, flirtatious, relaxed. Almost like a different person. More like . . . Yoji, himself. 

They squabbled over purchases—Schuldich was a bit of a food snob and Yoji was content with generic brands—but it wasn’t long before they’d had a full cart. 

Yoji paused, looking at a pack of really expensive glass noodles. They were the good kind, the kind his grandma used to make on special occasions. He was sick of ramen, but, this, like so much else, was out of his price range.

In fact, it was a little hard to watch Schuldich toss money around like it didn’t matter in the slightest, but . . . it wasn’t his business.

Schuldich casually picked up the noodles and put them in the cart. Yoji didn’t say anything, but he had the distinct feeling that Schuldich just bought him a pack of fancy noodles. 

They checked out—Yoji tried not to faint at the total—and he helped Schuldich carry their bags to the car. The trunk was already stuffed with bags—towels, shampoos, “Are those drapes?” and . . . “Video games?”

"Nagi needs something to do, and apparently, he can play these one-handed.” //And I’m making you help me with the drapes.//

Yoji was surprised. Schuldich was taking him home.

“Have to put the groceries away,” Schuldich said, like this wasn’t a big, huge, hairy deal. 

“How’s Nagi? I’m sorry, I should have asked sooner.”

“Good. Bored. Misses Omi.”

Nagi didn’t seem the type to say that out loud. “You can read him now?”

Schuldich frowned. “Not at all. I can just . . . tell. He’s restless. For someone that used to be able to move entire buildings with his mind, it’s hard not even being able to get out of bed.”

“Mm,” Yoji murmured, putting the rest of the bags in the backseat. “He won’t mind me coming in?”

Schuldich threw him a glance. “He knows.”

Yoji wasn’t sure why that was unsettling. “You told him?”

“He’s not a moron.” Schuldich closed the car door and turned the engine over. “He figured it out. But I told him not to tell Omi.”

“Omi’s not a moron, either.”

“But he is a trusting fool.” Schuldich punched the dash and the radio came to life. “Nagi actually thinks you’re good for me.”

Yoji looked out the window, strangely happy. “Oh?”

//After a while, I tend to take on some of the key characteristics of the people around me. Apparently, he likes me when I’m like you. Which means that when he gets to know you, he'll like you, too.//

Yoji thought about that for a while. “So, when you were sadistic and cruel, that was Farfarello?”

Schuldich said nothing.

“And cold and uncaring . . . Crawford?”

“It’s partly me, too.” Schuldich shrugged. //I’m not gonna lie to you.//

“You really hate lying.” Yoji looked over at Schuldich and, unable to stop himself, started stroking the German’s hair behind his ear. “Why is that?”

“There’s nothing worse than a lie. The truth is rarely pretty, but everyone has a right to it,” Schuldich said softly. //Feels good. Like your hands on me.//

Yoji nodded slightly and continued to stroke Schuldich’s hair. “I think . . . I think Nagi will be good for Omi.”

“Are you kidding? If anything, it’ll be the other way around. Nagi’s . . . I’ve never seen that kid so . . . normal.”

Yoji smiled. “Now, if only we can get Ken to see it that way.”

Schuldich swallowed. “Yeah, about that. I paid Kenken a little visit before I came for you. He said yes.”

Yoji blinked several times. “You went to Ken’s apartment?” ~And he didn’t kill you?~ “And he said yes?”

Schuldich nodded.

“Did you . . . ?”

“Use my ‘mind thingy’ on him?” Schuldich laughed. “No. Surprisingly, Ken’s not just a pretty face. He had some deep thoughts on the matter.”

“Did he?” Yoji looked out at the neon lights of the strip mall they were passing. 

“He threatened to skin Nagi alive and make me watch if I hurt you or Omi.” Schuldich grinned.

Yoji ran his thumb over his bottom lip. “He probably wouldn’t go that far, but, I think he means it.”

“Oh, I know he means it.” Schuldich turned into a quiet little neighborhood, on a quiet little street, with quiet little trees.

~You’re fucking kidding me.~

//Home sweet home.//

Yoji couldn’t believe Schuldich would pick a place like this to live. It was so . . . ordinary.

“Hopefully Esset will think so too, and overlook us.”

“I think you’re being paranoid.”

//I think, knowing Esset like I do, that I need to be.//

Yoji shrugged because Schuldich was probably right. Better safe than sorry. 

The house was actually quaint, a pale shade of blue, trimmed in white. Schuldich parked in the garage and shot out to get the bags. “I need to check on Nagi. Can I beg you to get the rest in?”

Yoji sighed heavily. “Yes, Master.”

//Hot.//

He rolled his eyes. Schuldich showed him to the kitchen, deposited his bags, and disappeared, so Yoji grabbed up the groceries and started putting them away. When that was done (they literally had nothing in the fridge or pantry) he went back and brought in the stuff from the department stores. He wasn’t sure if he should try and put things away, so he just left it all in the living room.

The house was . . . normal. Just so normal. Cream colored carpet. Bland paintings on the wall. A couch, a TV . . . like . . . like Schwartz was a typical family. Yoji looked around a bit. It was a little cold though. No photos. No personal articles. No mess. It was like Nagi and Schuldich had never existed. 

He heard soft voices coming from downstairs and, figuring it couldn’t hurt, he followed them. He stopped just at Nagi’s door, and peered inside.

Schuldich was sitting on the bed, stroking Nagi’s hair. 

“I’m really sorry,” Nagi said.

“Not your fault.” Schuldich sighed. “I shouldn’t have left you alone for so long.”

“I’m sorry,” the boy repeated.

~What’s wrong?~

Schuldich didn’t move a muscle. //Nagi needed the bathroom. He got up and walked there and now his leg hurts. I need to get him a wheelchair or something . . . I shouldn’t have taken so long.//

~Can I help, Schu?~

//No. I got it. But thanks.//

Yoji watched as Schuldich kissed Nagi’s forehead. “Take your pill.”

Nagi shook his head. “I don’t like it. I’ll get hooked on it. It makes my head fuzzy.”

“You’re in pain,” Schuldich argued.

“I’ve had worse.”

Schuldich was silent for a moment. “I got groceries. And other stuff. You hungry?”

Nagi nodded. 

“What ya want?”

“Miso.”

Schuldich snorted. “Nice to see your tastes haven’t changed. Miso I can do.” He stood. “Yoji’s here.”

Yoji peered through the crack in the door and shyly waved. “How ya doing?”

Nagi’s eyes widened. “Why’s he here?”

“I needed help with all those bags.”

“Schu . . .” Nagi looked over at Yoji worriedly.

“You got a problem? I can take him home . . .”

Nagi shook his head. “It’s . . . it’s okay. I mean . . . it’s weird, but whatever.” He waved back at Yoji.

Schuldich fished in one of his plastic bags. “Got this for you.”

“Cool,” Nagi said, taking the Gameboy and smiling.

“Also, this!” Schuldich unpackaged something small and handed it to Nagi.

“A baby monitor?” Nagi asked, disgusted.

“It’s a two-way radio, dumbass. You need anything, call me. In the meantime, my lord and master, I will be making your soup.”

Nagi smiled. “Thanks, Schu.”

Schuldich nodded and headed to the door. “Oh, one more thing.”

Nagi cocked his head.

“Yoji and Ken gave their blessing. So you can call and ask Omi whenever you—”

The boy reached down to the floor carefully for his cell phone and flipped it open immediately. Schuldich and Yoji watched him press speed dial and wait. 

“Omi . . . ? They said yes.” He sounded ridiculously happy.

Schuldich shot Yoji a look and they both smiled. The German jerked his head and they both went upstairs, giving Nagi his privacy. //Thanks for putting the food away.//

Yoji nodded and pointed to the top drawer. “Miso.”

Schuldich pulled out a bowl, filled it with water from the tap, and popped it in the microwave. “I bought all that great food, and he just wants this crap.”

“Teenagers,” Yoji said, mimicking an old man’s voice.

Schuldich crooked a finger at him, and Yoji came over. The German wound his arms around Yoji’s waist and pulled him close, kissing him. Yoji ran his hands over Schuldich’s arms, down his hips, and squeezed his ass. 

//I’ve half a mind to christen every inch of this house with you.//

Yoji groaned.

The microwave beeped. 

Reluctantly, Schuldich pulled away. “Let me take this down to Nagi, though he’ll probably be too excited to eat now.”

“Hm. Sounds like he’s already approached Omi with the idea.”

“They probably cooked up the scheme together, the punks,” Schuldich said affectionately, blowing on the bowl of soup. 

~Papa bear.~

//Fuck you.//

~As soon as possible, I hope.~

Schuldich shot him a look. “Be right back.”

Yoji smirked. It took Schuldich less than a minute and when he came back up, he was smiling. “Omi’s looking to move in this weekend. Something about having dinner with you and Ken . . .”

“Oh, yeah. We’ll help. He’s got a lot of books and shit.”

Schuldich nodded. “Sounds good. There should be enough room for the both of them downstairs.” //And thank God someone else can watch Nagi from time to time. I’m not exactly Mister Nurturing, you know.//

“Looked like you were doing all right to me.”

“Mm.” Schuldich backed Yoji out of the kitchen and into the living room, making sure to take the monitor with him. 

“You want help with the other stuff?” Yoji asked, his voice tight.

“Later.”

“You want to go upstairs?” he asked breathily.

“Later,” Schuldich said again, pushing Yoji back on the couch. He covered Yoji and kissed him roughly, grinding their hips together harshly.

Yoji moaned and wrapped his arms around Schuldich. ~Fuck me. Right here.~

Schuldich bit Yoji’s lower lip and yanked his zipper down. He peeled Yoji’s pants down to his ankles, and Yoji kicked those (and his shoes) off. Schuldich yanked him up by his shirt, turned him around so that his forearms rested on the back of the couch, and spread his legs. 

The German said in a low voice, “Don’t move,” and Yoji didn’t.

Some more fishing in bags, and Schuldich was back, his fingers lubed. 

“C-cold!”

//It’ll warm up as I fuck you,// Schuldich sent him, adding another finger.

Yoji panted and lifted his hips. Schuldich didn’t take long; he unzipped his pants and thrust in quickly, laving at Yoji’s ear.

“Guh . . . uh . . . uh . . . oh . . . ” Yoji clutched at the back of the couch, as Schuldich pulled his hips back and pounded into him.

//Still so tight, baby. Wanna make you come, just from my cock . . .//

“Schu . . . uh . . . uh . . . ”

Schuldich fucked him hard and fast, his fingers digging into Yoji’s hips. Yoji tried his best to keep quiet—they were just over Nagi’s bedroom downstairs, after all—but Schuldich was so good, he had to bite his hand. 

The German rolled his hips, pressing at Yoji from every angle, deep inside, and then started spanking him in time with his thrusts.

“Fuck!” Yoji shouted, squeezing his eyes shut.

//Come on, Yoji, tell me how much you want this.//

~You know I do. God . . . need it . . . more, please more . . .//

Schuldich let him have it, the sounds of his palm striking Yoji’s ass and Yoji’s harsh breathing filling the room. His cock was angry red and leaking—he wanted to come, but he was worried about staining the couch . . .

Abruptly, Schuldich pulled out and laid down on the floor. He crooked his finger again and sent Yoji a mental image of what he wanted.

Not wasting any time, Yoji straddled Schuldich’s hips and began fucking himself on Schuldich’s stiff prick. It was hard work—his thighs were killing him—but it felt so amazing . . . 

//You’re so gorgeous, Yoji. God, baby, don’t stop, work me . . . //

Schuldich fisted his cock and Yoji bit his lip to keep the noise down, but he really wanted to throw his head back and howl. Another series of sharp thrusts and they both came. 

Yoji stretched his hands out on either side of Schuldich’s head to keep from toppling over. The German stretch up and licked at his mouth, lapping up the blood on his lower lip. He’d bitten down hard to keep from screaming. 

“Shower please?” Yoji croaked out. He was covered in come.

Schuldich nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll put this stuff away and join you.”

Yoji carefully made his way upstairs—it was dark and, damn, he was sore. He turned on the hot water, blushing slightly, thinking about what they’d just done, with Nagi in the house . . . and he took off his shirt. He’d thoroughly cleaned himself up by the time Schuldich joined him.

They just stood under the spray, Schuldich holding him close. Occasionally, Schuldich would kiss his ear or his throat. Yoji moved to stand behind him, and he washed Schuldich’s long hair ~Don’t ever change this. Don’t cut it; don’t dye it.~

“Can’t make that promise, kitten. Orange hair tends to stick out in Japan. But I’ll try.”

Yoji nuzzled him, running his nails up and down Schuldich’s chest. “You’re so sexy, Schu,” he murmured suddenly. 

Schuldich grinned. “Ain’t it the truth?”

He raked his nails across Schuldich’s belly and kissed his neck. ~Want you . . . ~

//What’s stopping you?// Schuldich handed him the shampoo bottle again.

But Yoji just used it to soap up his hand and reached around to jerk Schuldich off. He slipped his dick right under Schuldich’s heavy balls, and rocked in and out between the tops of Schuldich’s thighs. Schuldich moaned and squeezed his legs together. 

//In me. Want it in me.//

“Spoiled brat,” Yoji whispered, parting Schuldich’s cheeks to thrust up. 

He continued to stroke Schuldich, taking his time, building a slow, sweet rhythm. Schuldich splayed his hands on the tiles and just held still, the spray washing over them, as Yoji fucked him. 

~I think we have a thing for sex in the shower.~

//I think I have a thing for sex anywhere . . . with you.//

Yoji pounded into Schuldich then, his hips snapping forward. He made the German come with a little cry, and then pumped himself with his hand, the water washing his seed away. 

Schuldich grinned and kissed him.

They toweled off—naturally Schuldich had bought linens of the highest thread count, the hedonist—and got back into their clothes. Well, actually, Yoji had to walk back downstairs half-naked, as his jeans were bundled by the couch. 

“What now? Drapes?” he asked.

“Would you mind?”

“Nope.”

Schuldich produced a new tool kit and a curtain rod. They worked together silently. Yoji drilled the holes and Schuldich handed him tools . . . and mentally told him oh so useful things like, //Little higher. No, higher. Too high.//

“It’s a good thing I like the way you fuck me, Schu. Some people might find you annoying.”

Schuldich smacked his ass and said, //Get to work.//

It didn’t take too long before drapes were up in the kitchen and living room. There were blinds in the bedrooms upstairs and Schuldich said it was all right for now. They could do more when Omi moved in on the weekend.

“Want a beer?” the German asked.

“God, yes,” Yoji said, putting the tools away. Schuldich had good taste when it came to decorating. He’d done the drapes in a pale sort of pistachio green, which was unusual, but worked well with the furniture. It was all very . . . earthy.

~You like greens.~

Schuldich shrugged. //Calming color and I go so pretty with it.//

Yoji snickered and took a beer. 

“Come on.” Schuldich led him to the couch and switched on the TV. An old black and white film was on—leave it to Schuldich to have the classics station. 

Yoji curled up on the couch. Schuldich draped his arm over the back, and Yoji decided to be bold and rest his head on Schuldich’s shoulder. 

Schuldich tangled his fingers in Yoji’s hair and sipped his beer. It was . . . nice. The movie was pretty good; he’d not seen it before, and it was a murder mystery. He liked those.

About halfway through, he put down his beer and rested his head on Schuldich’s thigh, letting the man pet his hair. 

//What’s on your mind, baby?//

~It’s the boyfriend’s sister. She did it.~

“You’ve seen this before?”

“Nope.” Yoji nuzzled Schuldich’s thigh and sighed. “I’m just a damned good detective.”

“Hm, let’s see if you’re right.”

Schuldich continued to pet him for a long time. 

Suddenly, Nagi cracked through on the monitor. “Schu? Sorry . . .”

Schuldich leaned over and picked the radio up. “No big. I’m coming.”

Yoji shifted as Schuldich got up and headed downstairs. //Bathroom break. Mind if I watch the movie through your eyes?//  
~Sure.~ It was weird, because he could sort of feel Schuldich rooting around in his brain and then settling comfortably, watching the movie as Yoji stared at the monitor. It wasn’t uncomfortable or crowded, just . . . weird. 

Two minutes later, Schuldich was back, grinning. “You were right. Boyfriend’s sister.”

Yoji nodded and stretched out on the couch. Schuldich covered him, kissing him. 

//You are a damned good detective.//

Sighing, Yoji stroked Schuldich’s face. “Guess so.”

“Do you miss it?”

“A bit. It’s not a fun job, but . . . sometimes it’s rewarding. If you can catch the guy before . . .” ~He strikes again.~

Schuldich nodded. “I’m guessing that doesn’t happen often?”

Yoji looked down, then back up. “Sure would’ve been nice if we’d had a psychic on the force.”

Schuldich cocked his head to the side. “Think there’s a living in that?”

Yoji shrugged. “It’s the government payroll. Promoting from within; good benefits. And the added bonus of serving the public good.”

Schuldich snickered. “That would be a ‘no’ then.” 

Yoji grinned. The credits rolled off the screen and Yoji looked over at the VCR, noting the time. “Shit. Schu, it’s almost twelve.”

Schuldich blinked. “Is it?” 

Four hours had passed in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Yoji really didn’t want to go, but if he didn’t show up at Tarot soon, Masa would charge Schuldich for the whole night.

“You can stay,” Schuldich said.

“Schu. You don’t have the money for this.”

Schuldich frowned. “Well, the first rule in the whore handbook is don’t give it away for free, right? So, what am I supposed to do?”

Pained, Yoji pushed Schuldich off and got up. He supposed the German had a point, but, the whole thing left him feeling dirty. “Maybe . . . maybe you should . . . just see me on my off hours.”

Schuldich’s eyes widened. “You mean, like, date you?”

Yoji shrugged defensively. “If you want to.”

The German blinked at him. “O . . . Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Um . . . Yeah. Okay.”

Yoji frowned. That was a tad anticlimactic, but . . . well, it was good news, wasn’t it? ~I have no idea how I’m going to pay for Omi’s education, but, Masa’s gonna fire me anyway if I keep going with out with just one client . . . God, this is complicated.~

“Yoji,” Schuldich said thickly. 

“Hm?”

“I . . . I’ll take you back,” Schuldich murmured. 

Nodding, Yoji waited while Schuldich got his things together, and then they headed to the car. It was a bit awkward, riding in silence. Schuldich was strangely withdrawn and looked more than a little puzzled. 

“Look,” Yoji said suddenly, “would you feel better about it if you bought me? You only want me if I’m playing the whore, or something?”

Schuldich frowned. //Not only is that stupid, it’s overly dramatic. I love the fact that you can act like a slut in the bedroom, but I know you’re a gentleman on the street. I would, in fact, feel better about paying for your time, since you’ve seemed to take it upon yourself to be Omi’s guardian angel. But neither do I have tons and tons of money, what with Nagi to support now.// “Plus, there’s the whole . . . dating thing. I haven’t dated anyone in so long . . . not since I was a teen, and I couldn’t exactly call blowing people for money ‘dating.’ ”

So Schuldich really had slept with people for money, then. Yoji tucked that nugget of information away. “But Crawford—?”

“That was not dating. That was living together, working together, and when Brad felt like it, fucking. And I never confused the three. You . . . I’m not sure what category you fit in.”

Yoji hung his head. So, Schuldich wasn’t exactly boyfriend material . . . Boyfriend . . . ~God, Yoji, when did you get so turned around, huh?~

“I just know that, somehow, you fit,” Schuldich whispered. 

~This is crazy. We should . . . we should probably just stop seeing each other.~

Schuldich sent him the mental image of just last night, both of them tangled up in each other’s mind and bodies. //I’m curious. Would giving that up be easy for you?//

Yoji closed his eyes. “Schu . . .”

“Look. If Omi and Nagi can find a way to work it out, surely two adults can. We’ll just . . . play it by ear. I’m good at that.”

Yoji sighed. Eventually, he reached over and brushed his hand over Schuldich’s. “This is gonna get messy.”

Schuldich pulled up outside of Tarot at twelve o’ one. “This is already messy, Kudo.” //Now, get that sad look off your face and kiss me goodnight.//

The German leaned over and kissed him—then licked a hot trail down his chin and brushed his lips down the center of his chest, his torso, and mouthed his dick. Yoji got hard again in a matter of seconds, as Schuldich kissed his cock through his jeans. 

Surrendering, (because what else could he do?) he let Schuldich unzip him and give him head, right there, in the car, parked out on the street.

He panted and scratched the roof with his fingernails and came, choking out the word, “Schu!”

Schuldich looked up at him, a little bit of come glistening on his lower lip, and smiled. //You working tomorrow night?//

“Yeah.”

“After, I wanna take you out. What d’ya say?”

Yoji traced his thumb over Schuldich’s lip, cleaning him up. He sucked on his thumb and nodded. 

The look Schuldich was giving him . . . it was something almost like love. 

“I’ll pick you up here, after, then.” Schuldich kissed him—Yoji held him steady and drew it out—and then he watched as Yoji got out of the car.

“Wait, don’t forget.” Schuldich reached in the backseat and then handed Yoji a packet of glass noodles through the car window.

“Schu . . .”

//Tomorrow, baby.//

“Yeah, okay.”

Schuldich nodded. Yoji expected him to drive off, make a flashy exit, but the older man waited until Yoji was inside the club. ~Big bad wolf . . . more like papa bear.~

//I’ll make you pay for that, Kudo.//

~I’m counting on it.~

He walked inside and stopped short. Masa was waiting in the lobby for him, smiling softly. 

"Welcome back, Diva." He cocked his head. "I have another client interested in spending the night with you. I booked you a room next door for Thursday." Masa put on his hat and walked past Yoji, opening the door. "Don't be late."

Yoji stood there, eyes wide, stunned.

"Shit."


	7. Chapter 7

Schuldich spent the next day getting in more supplies and watching over Nagi, which wasn’t easy, because he couldn’t look like he was watching over Nagi—the boy would have resented it and Schuldich wasn’t about to further dismantle his big bad wolf image. 

Even if he was making miso soup from scratch in an apron that said “Kiss the Cook,” because Nagi liked it better this way than from the package. 

In truth, Nagi was remarkably changed. He was . . . communicative. Grateful. Mild-mannered. Well, he had always been mild-mannered, but now . . . it was just so easy to get along with him. Since Schuldich had told him Omi could move in that weekend, the boy was practically thrumming with excitement. He was gonna wear out the buttons on the Gameboy. 

Schuldich wasn’t sure he could stomach much more of the warm gushiness in his life.

Except, he was happy, himself. 

He’d set up a nice (if awkward and totally implausible) arrangement with Kudo. //I should probably start thinking about my boyfriend on a first-name basis . . .// And Yoji actually made him . . . happy. 

He had acquired all the things he’d so studiously avoided in the past—a house, a child, and a lover. Plus, he was looking for a full-time job. All the trappings of a mundane, innocuous life.

And he couldn’t be more content.

Schuldich ladled the soup into a bowl and put it on a tray. He added a sweet bun and a soft drink, and took the tray downstairs to Nagi’s room.

“Lunch.”

Nagi looked up, his tongue between his teeth. He hit pause on the game. “Thanks.”

Schuldich nodded and sat down on the bed, putting the tray on Nagi’s lap. As nonchalantly as possible, he checked Nagi’s temperature. “How are you feeling? Want a pill?”

The boy shook his head. “No, I’m good.” He looked down at the bowl. “Is this homemade?”

//Relax. I didn’t go all “Flowers in the Attic” on you.//

Nagi waited patiently for him to answer. Then Schuldich remembered—the boy couldn’t communicate psychically. On any level. “Yes,” he said shortly.

Smiling, Nagi lifted the bowl to his lips and sipped. “It’s good.”

Schuldich nodded. He should get up. Keep moving. He had a date with Yoji tonight, which meant he better take a nap, because his boyfriend kept pretty fucked up hours. This schedule was gonna suck when he took a job.

“Something you wanted?” Nagi asked between sips.

“I made us an appointment for the university’s registrar’s office on Tuesday. We have to get you enrolled. I’ll finish up your paperwork tomorrow. No sense in trying while Omi moves in this weekend.”

Nagi lit up like a goddamned Christmas tree.

“Which reminds me,” Schuldich said uncomfortably. 

“Schu?”

“Nagi . . . God, I can’t believe . . . Okay.” He sighed. “I don’t mean to presume you’re ignorant of these things, ’cause Brad already told me about how he found you . . .”

Nagi’s face turned to cold stone. 

Schuldich held up a hand and tried again. “Look, I don’t mean to talk down to you, is what I’m saying . . . but . . . would you like me to get you . . . anything?”

The boy frowned. “What?”

Man, he really missed using telepathy. There were just some things a man shouldn’t have to say out loud to a seventeen-year-old boy in his care. “Do you want me to get you some condoms and lube? Or anything else?”

Nagi’s eyes bugged out. 

“You know, on second thought, that’s probably a dumb question, because Omi’s got access to everything at the clinic, but, I’m just saying, if you need me to shop for something, just make me a list—”

The boy choked out, “N-n-no! Schu . . . it’s not like that.”

Schuldich frowned. “Not like what?”

Nagi blushed and stared down at the bowl. “We haven’t . . . um . . . I don’t think he . . . He’s not like that. We’re just friends.”

Schuldich sat there, stunned. “You’re telling me you haven’t . . . ?” Schuldich was a bad ass; he couldn’t say ‘made love’ to Nagi, he just couldn’t do it. 

Nagi shook his head. 

“But there was only one bed,” Schuldich blurted.

“He slept on the floor,” Nagi murmured. “I don’t think he thinks of boys that way.”

Schuldich didn’t know what to say. Safe topic. Safe topic. “So, he’s gonna sleep on the floor here too? Or should I offer him the bedroom upstairs?”

Nagi shrugged. “I assumed that’s what you meant. That’s what I told him. You didn’t have plans for it, did you?”

Briefly, Schuldich wondered about sharing the upstairs with Omi, considering how loud Yoji could get when Schuldich was pounding into him. “Ahm . . .” 

Nagi looked like he was on the verge of tears. “I just want him near me. It’s all right if I’m not enough for him to be . . . that way with me. But promise me he can still stay, Schu?”

Deer in headlights. Deer in headlights . . . Shit. “Na-Nagi . . . Don’t cry!”

“Got you.” Nagi’s face split into a mischievous grin. He giggled. “I got you so good!”

Schuldich did a double-take as that sunk in. “What the fuck?” Nagi? Played a joke? On him?

He picked up one of the pillows and whacked Nagi on the head. 

“Hey, hey, injured person here!” Nagi said, then giggled again. “It’s fun finally being able to get one over on the Mastermind.”

Schuldich sobered.

Nagi noticed this and stopped laughing. “Schu. I appreciate it. But Omi and I can take care of ourselves. I know you mean well, but I’d really like it if this could be one of those things you let me keep private.”

Schuldich nodded absently. He didn’t really care if Omi and Nagi fucked like minks or chastely held hands for the rest of their lives. It wasn’t his business. But the fact that Nagi had been able to trick him, and he couldn’t even read the signals or the expressions . . .

“More important things on my mind,” he murmured.

“Like what?” Nagi broke the sweet bun and offered him some.

“Like, how we’re going to open up your noodle and get our link back. Not to mention your powers.”

Nagi froze in mid-chew. He had a faraway look.

“I know you don’t like the idea of me tampering with your brain, and frankly, I don’t blame you,” Schuldich said, “but you’ll need your powers back, if Esset ever—”

“No,” Nagi said simply.

Schuldich just looked at him.

“If—if—Esset still exists, I think I’d rather be killed than be their pawn again.” The boy shuddered.

“Nagi.”

“They used me because of my power. It never kept me safe. There’s nothing you can use to beat them.” Nagi shrugged, suddenly very sad. “And Schu . . . I like . . .”

Schuldich looked down at Nagi’s bowed head. “Being normal?”

Nodding, Nagi’s eyes filled with genuine tears this time. “I don’t want to be a freak again.”

That hurt. Deeply. But Schuldich understood. He pulled Nagi into a loose hug, mindful of the tray, and sighed. “I guess . . . I guess as long as not having the gift doesn’t hurt you . . . I simply won’t go rooting around to bring it out again.” Schuldich pressed closed lips to Nagi’s forehead. “I’ll just have to work a little harder to protect both of us.”

Nagi smiled. “You really are nice like this. Like him.”

Schuldich grabbed Nagi’s wrist and took a big bite out of his sweet bun. “Hm. Speaking of him, I have a date tonight. You gonna be all right on your own?”

Nagi nodded. “The cane you got me today should help me get to the bathroom. And Omi says it won’t be too much longer before the casts come off, if I just rest.”

“Right, then.” Schuldich got up to leave.

“Schu?”

“Yeah?

“Thanks for taking care of . . .” Nagi bit his lip, as if he just couldn’t get something that sappy out. “Thanks for letting me have Omi.”

Smiling, Schuldich reached for the doorknob. “Thanks for understanding about Yoji,” he said softly, closing the door without looking back. 

He napped as best he could for the rest of the afternoon and evening. He was too jittery to stay down for long, and couldn’t eat much at dinner. Nagi was getting around all right with his cane, but Schuldich still brought down the sukiyaki on a tray and ate in Nagi’s room. He never did like having meals alone. 

Then he took a shower—an extra long, steamy shower. He paid particular attention to himself tonight, using the good smelling soap and the best conditioner. He shaved (even down there; both Yoji and he were meticulous about that sort of stuff, thank God) and used lotion. 

He was laughing at himself by the time he had to choose an outfit. He’d always taken care with his appearance, but since tonight was a date, it somehow seemed important that he look especially good.

He wore dark blue jeans and a black V-neck top that molded to his upper body. He made a headband out of a black handkerchief and pulled his jeans over black, calf-length boots. //I am ridiculously sexy,// he thought to himself as he brushed his teeth. 

He grinned and grabbed up his car keys. “I’m heading out. Last call,” Schuldich said into the monitor.

“Have fun,” Nagi said back sleepily.

Schuldich whistled on the way to the car. He hummed along with the radio on the drive over to Tarot. His fingers tapped the steering wheel as he parked the car and waited out front.

//I’m here, baby.//

A short wait. ~Just finishing up.~

Three minutes later, Yoji walked out of the brass-handled doors, dressed in dove-gray slacks and a baby-blue midriff.

//Guh.//

Yoji smiled, opening the car door. “Thanks.”

Schuldich leaned over and they kissed. “You taste like cherries.”

“I have a client with a thing for them,” Yoji said, shrugging. 

Tamping down on the urge to press Yoji for more information, Schuldich nodded and pulled out onto the street.

“So. Where are we going?” Yoji asked, tucking his hair behind his ears.

“Are you hungry?”

“Not really, but if you want . . .”

Schuldich shook his head. Too nervous to eat, stupidly enough. “Thought we’d take in a movie.”

Yoji blinked. ~How . . . normal.~

//I like to keep you guessing.//

A soft smile. “You certainly do.” 

Yoji covered Schuldich’s hand with his own, and left it there for the duration of the ride, his thumb softly stroking over Schuldich’s knuckles. 

“How’s Nagi?” Yoji asked while Schuldich hunted for an open parking lot.

“Getting better. He’s excited about this weekend.”

Yoji nodded. “Omi called me and talked and talked and talked. I don’t even really know what he said, I just got the gist that they were happy about this arrangement. Thank you, Schu.”

Schuldich shrugged. “Whatever works.”

He parked in a garage less than a block from the theater and glanced over at Yoji. Something . . . wasn’t quite right. He couldn’t put his finger on it, though.

Yoji, understandably, was embarrassed about holding hands with another guy in public, so Schuldich stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and fished around for a smoke. “Want one?”

The blond shook his head, but held up his own lighter for Schuldich. He took a drag. “What do you want to see?”

~I honestly don’t care.~

Schuldich could tell Yoji meant that as a compliment—that he could watch bread rise and be happy, if he was in Schuldich’s company. That kind of shit made him want to either smack Yoji for being a sap, or stick his tongue down the other man’s throat. Since he could do neither while waiting in the outdoor queue, he continued to smoke. 

“How about the horror flick?” he asked casually. “You can cling to me during all the scary parts.”

Yoji grinned. “The man with the plan.” 

Schuldich grinned back. He bought their tickets, insisting that Yoji let him pay since he’d asked the man out, and pointed to the concession stand, grinding his half-smoked cigarette out on the concrete.

“You have to get extra butter,” Yoji insisted after ordering one large cola and two straws.

“Suddenly you like butter? Now who has a vendetta against his arteries, Yo-tan?”

Yoji rolled his eyes. “This from a man who doesn’t expect to live to thirty.” He sighed and said to the clerk, “Extra, extra butter, please. Make it swim.”

Schuldich smiled and cheerfully handed over his money. Yoji seemed playful tonight. There were dark circles under his eyes, and something odd tapped at the base of Schuldich’s brain, but his kitty cat seemed happy for the most part. And everyone had bad days; maybe his client tonight was an asshole and Yoji was trying to push it from his mind.

Because Yoji was definitely trying to push something from his mind. 

He let the blond pick their seats—all the way in the back. 

“Are you far-sighted or something?” Schuldich teased.

Yoji put the drink in the cup holder, and the bucket of death—no, make that buttered popcorn—on the floor. ~This way I can cling to you during all the scary parts, and we won’t get kicked out of the theater.~

“I like the way you think, Kudo.” Schuldich took off his jacket and Yoji sucked in a breath. “What?”

~You look sexy as hell.~

Smiling, Schuldich draped his coat over their laps and held Yoji’s hand under the warm material, as the projector cracked to life and the previews started.

Schuldich couldn’t really tell what the movie was about; he wasn’t paying attention. Some girl was running around and there were ghosts and lots of scary things popping out of dark corners—on more than one occasion, Yoji’s hand gripped his fiercely—and Schuldich decided that this was something about Yoji that he loved. He loved that Yoji was the kind of man to get so caught up with the characters, to get so involved, that he could actually get scared by a movie.

Before, he would have found that contemptuous. Brad would have found that contemptuous. And after dozens of years spent daily in Brad’s company, his reactions were imprinted on Schuldich. Until he almost couldn’t tell the difference between the two of them, sometimes.

But now, watching Yoji, wide-eyed and tense, one hand in the popcorn bucket and the other squeezing the blood from Schuldich’s fingers, he could honestly say that this was the closest he’d ever come to something like love. 

Yoji blinked over at him. ~What?~

//Just thinking my boyfriend is the cutest guy in the place, is all.//

Snorting softly, Yoji glanced around, then put his head on Schuldich’s shoulder. 

Carefully, Schuldich draped his arm around Yoji. They were all the way in the back and no one else was in their row. Hell, almost no one else was in the theater, at two in the morning. He kissed Yoji’s forehead and closed his eyes. 

He really didn’t give a crap about this film. But two hours in the dark, holding Yoji? That was priceless. He didn’t move except, as the ‘plot’ was wrapping up to a nice, safe ending, to take up Yoji’s hand and lick the butter from his fingers.

Yoji looked at him through hooded eyes. ~Really want to kiss you.~

Sighing, Schuldich squeezed Yoji’s hand. The credits rolled. “Wanna get out of here?”

Yoji nodded and stood, shivering.

//Cold, kitten?//

“Theaters always make me chilly.”

“Keep it,” Schuldich said, indicating his jacket. “Let’s go.”

They left the theater and headed a few blocks down to a busy square. Normally, Schuldich would have been distracted by all the neon lights and the traffic and the noise—Tokyo never shut down. Ever. It was always busy, even at three a.m. on a Wednesday.

~This city never does sleep.~

“Let’s walk around a bit?” Schuldich asked, guiding Yoji with his hand on the small of the blonde’s back.

They went down a little side street with automatic vendors selling drinks and snacks and jewelry. 

Yoji guffawed. “Look at this.” He pointed to a case of gaudy gothic jewelry. “I used to be so into this, back in high school. I guess Halloween is catching on.”

Schuldich smiled. But one necklace caught his eye. Hanging on a simple, black string was a white cross, so slender and small—it was smaller than the nail of his thumb. 

“What?” Yoji asked.

“Tradition.” Schuldich popped in a few coins and selected the necklace. “Weiss Kreuz,” he murmured.

Yoji stilled. He looked at Schuldich intensely as Schuldich carefully put the necklace around Yoji’s throat—it just barely fit, more of a choker than a necklace. Clearly, it was designed for some girl in her ’tweens, but, it looked good on him. “Für meinen weissen Ritter in schimmernder Rüstung.”

Yoji blinked, understanding that Schuldich had said 'for my white knight in shining armor' but not really sure how he had understood that. “Schu . . .”

Schuldich fingered it for a moment, then let the cross rest at the hollow of Yoji’s throat. “Come on. This place is too busy. Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

Yoji cleared his throat. “There’s a park nearby.”

Schuldich nodded, watching from the corner of his eyes as Yoji shivered and pulled his jacket tighter around him. Something was obviously up with Kudo.

The park was totally abandoned. The streetlamps made the place look somber, strange. The jungle gym seemed like the skeletal remains of some alien beast. 

Schuldich sat down on one of the swings and pulled Yoji onto his lap. The blond held onto the chain ropes and sighed as Schuldich hooked his chin over Yoji’s shoulder.

He gently swung them back and forth, just a tiny bit.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

~Nothing. Just tired.~

//Yoji. If you ever lie to me, I’ll gut you.// Schuldich thought sweetly. But he was serious, too.

Yoji sighed again. “Some things are meant to be private, Schu. It’s nothing. Let’s not ruin tonight.”

Puzzled, Schuldich tightened his arms around Yoji’s waist. Then he realized—Yoji was blocking him out. Of something. Some part of Yoji was behind that damned castle wall. 

//This wasn’t what I pictured. We’d start dating, and you’d start closing yourself off from me and giving me bullshit lies, when it’s clear something’s bothering you.// “It's almost like a soap opera and I really can’t stand clichés.”

Yoji tensed and stopped the swing. “Does dating you mean I have to surrender every part of myself? My every thought? My every trouble? Do you think being with me means becoming me?”

Well, that was certainly hostile. “I just want to know what’s got my lover upset,” Schuldich whispered, petting Yoji’s hair back off his neck. He nuzzled Yoji. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.” He kissed Yoji’s throat. 

The blond relaxed back into his arms. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be so short. I’m just . . . tired, is all.”

Schuldich said nothing; he just continued kissing Yoji’s neck until the younger man tilted his head back and groaned. “Let’s get you home, then,” Schuldich finally said.

Yoji was tired. He was closed off, and Schuldich couldn’t stand that from him, not after so many years of having to put up with it from Brad. Sure, he could force his way inside Yoji’s pathetically fragile barrier, but it wouldn’t earn him any brownie points. And for all he knew, all this angst could be over something ridiculously superfluous. 

Might as well give up, let it go.

The ride home was quiet. Yoji frowned, his thumb worrying his lower lip. The young man seemed to go further and further into himself until Schuldich was ready to scream. He got to the apartment and didn’t bother to park.

“Aren’t you coming up?” Yoji asked, confused.

“Aren’t you tired?”

Yoji sighed. “Come on up. Unless . . . does Nagi need you . . . ?”

Tamping down on his impatience, (something he’d never really done before) Schuldich parked the car and followed Yoji upstairs. 

The younger man quietly slipped the key in the lock and opened to the door to a dark and almost bare apartment. Yoji’s place really did depress the hell out of Schuldich. He hesitated at the threshold.

Yoji turned around and let Schuldich’s jacket slide off his shoulders. “Come in,” he whispered huskily.

Schuldich shook his head. “If I come in, I’m going to end up having sex with you.”

Yoji lifted an eyebrow. “And that would be bad, because . . . ?”

He smiled softly. “Because it’s our first date.”

Blinking, Yoji seemed to . . . melt. ~You can be ridiculously sweet sometimes, Schu.~ He walked over to Schuldich and nuzzled his cheek. 

Schuldich swallowed, trying very hard not to get caught up in the heady scent of Yoji’s cologne and the feel of that slender body pressing against him. “Tonight was not about sex, for me.”

Yoji nodded. “Right. Not about sex. Noble sentiments duly noted.” He kissed Schuldich hard. “Now, come fuck me.”~Want you to mark me.~

Bewildered, Schuldich stood there and let Yoji plunder his mouth, half in and half out of the hallway. Yoji . . . clung to him.

//Yoji?//

~Please? Need you . . .~

Schuldich allowed himself to be pulled inside and then slammed up against the door. Something was very, very wrong with this picture. Yoji felt . . . Yoji felt like he was in despair . . . Schuldich got the sense that Yoji wanted to crawl inside him and never come out again. 

He grabbed Yoji’s face and held him still. “What is it, baby? Tell me.”

For a moment, Yoji tried to continue the charade, but then his face fell. Real tears flooded Yoji’s eyes, but didn’t fall. “I . . . God, Schu . . . I don’t know how to tell you this . . .”

Schuldich’s gut tightened. //Just tell me.//

“I . . . can’t.” Yoji shook his head.

“Show me, then.” Schuldich stroked his thumbs over Yoji’s cheeks. //Imagine that drawbridge lowering, and let me in, baby.//

It hit Schuldich like a freight train, really. Yoji’s shoulders slackened and suddenly the barrier was gone, and fear, shame, and frustration came off the blond in waves. Quickly, Schuldich searched for the source, saw the conversation Yoji’d had last night with Masa, and tried his best not to explode at the idea of Yoji sleeping with somebody else tomorrow night.

“You’ve got a mystery customer,” he said, trying to keep his voice even.

Yoji hid his face in the crook of Schuldich’s chin and shoulder, waiting.

Schuldich took a deep breath. “Did you think I was going to judge you? Or tease?”

Yoji tore back and frowned at him. The words seemed loving, but the tone was not, and he could see the younger man’s confusion. 

Schuldich chuckled, but it was forced. “What do I care who you let use you?”

Frowning, Yoji wrung his hands. “You don’t? I mean . . . um . . . I thought . . .”

“Hey.” Schuldich shrugged. “Comes with the trade. It’s not like I didn’t already know what you do for a living.”

He could sense Yoji’s disbelief and hurt, but frankly, he didn’t care. He was pissed off. Less than a day after Yoji suggested they become lovers, or whatever, and the man had gone making appointments to fuck around. And yes, he knew that Yoji was not looking forward to it—in fact, the young man was close to fainting with dread over the very idea—but if he really wanted to pay for Omi’s education that badly, he could easily have done something else. Something that wouldn’t hurt Schuldich.

He felt like such an ass for opening himself up to this.

He could practically hear Bradley laughing at him, all the way from hell. 

“Schu. I don’t want to do this. But, the appointment’s already been made; Masa would lose face—”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Schuldich agreed harshly.

Yoji licked his lips. “And with us . . . seeing each other socially . . . I need the money for—”

“Yep. I got it,” he said tightly. “Kudo, we’re on the same page. You keep forgetting, this is old hat for me.” He bent over and scooped up his jacket, mostly to have something to hold onto so he could hide his shaking hands. 

“I . . . I don’t know what else . . .” Yoji flailed his arms helplessly. 

Schuldich smiled bitterly. “Are you scared?”

Yoji hung his head. “Yes,” he whispered.

He was so raw. It was like something tried to claw its way out of his chest. He wanted to protect Yoji. He wanted to tell Yoji to call and cancel. Quit, if he had to. He wanted to tell Yoji that giving his body to others for money would change him in ways he could not imagine and in ways that Schuldich never wanted him to be able to fathom. 

What he said was, “Relax, kitten. You didn’t want to do me for cash,” he sidled up close and cupped Yoji’s cheek, “and now you can’t get enough Schwartz cock. So cheer up. Maybe this guy’ll give it to you hard and fast and you can date him too.”

Yoji’s nostrils flared and wrenched away. Schuldich pretended not to register the pain in those green eyes. “You . . .”

He reached out and gripped Yoji’s jaw—hard. He pulled the younger man flush against him, kissing him harshly. //Don’t you give him your mouth, though. Don’t you kiss anyone but me. You give anyone else this, and I’ll kill them, I swear it. Your mouth belongs to me.//

He pushed Yoji down so forcefully that the blond fell back to the floor. “And be sure you both wear condoms,” he said snidely. “I don’t want to catch anything unpleasant the next time I fuck you.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked out the door. He kept walking, taking the stairs instead of the elevator, trying his best to block out the fact that Yoji’s arms were now wrapped around his knees and he was rocking back and forth, crying. 

He never wanted to care in the first place. Now, look at this mess. Just look at this mess.

~*~

Sleep was out of the question, and Yoji couldn’t hold down food. On the bright side, the metallic leather pants that once were really tight now fit perfectly. And his metallic red top practically stuck to his ribs. So, there was something positive to be said for all this, right?

It was funny, actually. He’d killed more people with his wire-watch than he could remember. He’d seen and done some damned disgusting things. But sleeping with a total stranger for money? That was all it took to turn him into an angsting teenage girl.

Pressing every feeling inside down, down, deep into dark water, Yoji finished putting on his makeup and gave himself a last look in the mirror.

Light reflected off his little white cross. Yoji fingered the necklace for a moment.

Schuldich had been absolutely brutal with him this morning. But Yoji figured that meant he cared—deeply—about Yoji being with someone, anyone, else. Yoji was both happy and sad about that. 

Regardless, he couldn’t bring himself to take the choker off. He’d feel totally naked without it.

Squaring his shoulders, Yoji walked out of the bathroom and onto Tarot's dance floor. He quickly found Masa’s eye and asked when his new client would be by.

“This guy asked for someone matching your description,” Masa said, “to meet him at the hotel next door.” The middle-aged man produced a key to room 23. “You’re to meet him there at eight.”

Yoji frowned. He didn’t even get to meet this guy first? How did Masa know he wasn’t a raging psycho? Good thing he’d brought along his watch.

“Diva, you look a little pale.” Masa handed him a drink—he didn’t know what it was and he didn’t care, he just knocked it back fast. “You know we screen people thoroughly. I wouldn’t set you up with a loony.”

Yoji nodded. “Of course not, Boss.”

He took the key and made his way to the backstairs. For a moment, he paused between the two doors, his arms stretched out, his chest pained. ~This is for Omi. This is just your body, and you’re giving it up for Omi. You’d die for him. You’d kill for him. This is just your body. Now, get in there.~

Yoji made his way to room 23 and knocked softly.

“Come in,” a quiet voice said.

Yoji walked into the dark room and reached for the switch automatically.

“Leave it off. Please.” Smooth, masculine voice. Very smooth.

Yoji hesitated and then stepped all the way in, letting the door close behind him. “Where are you?” he asked nervously.

“Here.” The voice came from on the other side of the bed. Yoji could just barely make out one of the chairs beside the bed. 

He swallowed. “Ah . . . you want to do this in the dark?”

A pause. “I would prefer it that way.”

Okay, then. Totally anonymous sex it was. Though why anyone would pay this much money when they could just use their right hand for free . . . “All right. Shall I . . .?”

“Lay down on the bed.”

Swallowing, Yoji thought about kicking off his boots, but decided against it in case he needed to make a hasty exit. He walked over to the bed, felt around a bit, and then stretched out on his back. 

The other man said nothing for a long time.

Yoji frowned into the darkness. “You’re still there, right?”

“Your eyes will adjust in time,” the man whispered. 

Which was true. Yoji had very, very good eyes and was used to many nighttime missions, but, he’d been out of practice for more than half a year and this whole situation was somehow infinitely more creepy. 

He decided to relax—this guy probably had nothing sinister planned. He was probably just a shy salary man that didn’t want anyone to see his face. Maybe he was disfigured or something. Yoji stroked his belly up and down with two fingers and said in a voice he hoped was husky, “What do you want?”

The man swallowed. “What do you do?”

Yoji frowned again. “Anything you desire.” He turned his head to the direction of the chair. “No tying me up, though. Not on the first date.” He smiled bitterly.

“Anything? Anything I want?”

Yoji shivered. “You bought me,” he whispered seductively.

The man got up and slowly walked to the edge of the bed. He sat down next to Yoji and said, “I want you to teach me everything.”

Yoji had to work very hard to bite back his surprise. “Teach you?” ~Oh, great. I’ve been having gay sex for less than two weeks and I’ve landed myself the role of sensei. Fuck.~

“You must know how to please men,” the stranger said softly—pained. That voice sounded familiar somehow. He touched Yoji then, a cool forefinger stroking down Yoji’s neck . . . over the cross.

“I . . .” Yoji paused, at a total loss.

“I want,” the man said desperately. “I want to know . . .” 

Suddenly the stranger dove into Yoji’s arms, burrowing his face into the crook of Yoji’s neck and shoulder. Yoji made a little surprised noise as the man’s long arms wrapped around him. 

Yoji pet the man’s soft, short hair, totally dumbstruck. 

“You said anything, right?”

“Yes,” Yoji breathed.

“Then . . . then, just hold me.”

~This must be the loneliest person on Earth,~ Yoji thought. He wound his arms around the man and held on tight. Occasionally, he stroked the man’s hair, which was cut in uneven lengths, or massaged the man’s back, trying very tactfully to ignore the tickle of hot tears sliding down his neck. 

“What shall I call you?” Yoji asked softly, when the man had quieted.

“My name?” the man asked. “It’s Ran.”

Yoji froze, his eyes snapping open. “Fuck.”

‘Ran’ tensed up. “What?”

“Nothing,” Yoji said quickly, desperately wondering if he could make it out the door and get down the hall fast enough before Fujimiya saw him. 

“What?” Ran asked again, lifting up off his chest. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you my real name, right?”

Yoji swallowed and gripped Ran’s arms in the dark. “You have to promise not to freak out.”

“Explain yourself,” Ran said, in a voice so tense and so cold that all of Yoji’s doubts that this might be another Ran scattered away. 

“Your first instinct is going to be to freak out,” Yoji said. “Don’t.” He reached for the lamp on the nightstand.

Ran’s hand shot out and stopped him. “Don’t!”

“You won’t believe me otherwise, Ran . . . Fujimiya.”

Ran froze overtop of him and Yoji could almost picture the brittle expression on the other man’s face. Quickly, while Ran was distracted, he turned on the light.

They both squinted as their pupils dilated painfully, and then they were staring at each other.

Ran looked older. His hair was still a deep, crimson red. He was neatly shaved and pale and muscular, wearing that same hideous orange turtleneck that he’d worn in Weiss. Outwardly, he hadn’t changed much. But there were worry lines. Signs of strain. And his eyes . . . deep purple and so sad. 

“Aya,” Yoji whispered.

Crack!

Ran backhanded Yoji so hard that his ears rang. 

The next several moments unfolded in a blur—Ran lashed out at him; Yoji dodged and deflected where he could, and took what he couldn’t. They rolled, fell off the bed—a cry of outrage tore out of Ran—and Yoji could hear his heart pound in his ears when Ran’s hands came around his neck.

He pulled his wire trigger and wrapped the string around Ran’s neck in a split-second, cutting through the turtleneck easily. He squeezed until Ran’s eyes looked like they’d burst. Ran’s hands went slack, and the minute they did, Yoji let go, reached out, and pulled Ran down to his chest, holding him close while they both gasped for air.

Yoji stroked Ran’s hair as he had done minutes before and struggled not to be sick. “Ran,” he rasped. “It’s going to be okay.”

Ran tensed, but then he went slack, collapsing on Yoji with a whimper. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Yoji repeated, holding Ran close. The other man was shaking like a leaf. 

“I’m so ashamed,” Ran whispered. “I want to die.”

Despite himself, Yoji chuckled. “I know the feeling.” He pressed a quick kiss to Ran’s forehead. 

The other man pulled back and frowned. 

Yoji inspected his neck. “I didn’t break skin, did I?”

Ran felt the impression the wire had made. “No. Not much. Are you . . . ?”

“I’m okay.” Yoji sat up. 

They looked at each other for a long time. “You’re a host?” Ran finally said.

Yoji nodded. “And you’re gay. Why don’t we take it from there?”

~*~

Ran sat on the edge of the bed, while Yoji sat on the floor with his long legs crossed. He listened patiently while the blond playboy explained how he’d become a host, why he was whoring for money, and about how half of Schwartz entered the scene.

He sat there, frozen, immobile, watching the expressions play out on Yoji’s face—every time the younger man said the word ‘Schuldich,’ Ran felt an icy cold pang ripple through him. Because it was obvious . . .

Yoji was in love.

“Idiot,” he whispered.

Yoji paused, then shrugged. “You too.”

Ran nodded. “Let me see if I have all this. You’re bisexual.”

“Yes,” Yoji said quickly. “I think.”

“And you’re dating Schuldich?”

“No,” Yoji insisted. “I think we broke up.”

“You think?” Ran frowned.

“Well, you know, whoring around? Not so good for a budding relationship, Aya,” Yoji said heatedly, crossing his arms.

“Ran,” he reminded quietly.

“Right,” Yoji muttered.

“Omi is moving in with your . . . ex-boyfriend tomorrow, correct?”

Yoji blinked. “Um . . . yes?” He held out his hands. “Schuldich won’t hurt him just because he’s pissed at me, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“You know this because . . . ?”

“Because he wouldn’t.” Yoji huffed. “First of all, he’s not like that. But let’s assume for a moment he was. If he hurt Omi, he knows Ken and I would kill him. If there was anything left to kill, once Nagi got done with him.”

Ran lifted an eyebrow. “And Nagi and Omi are . . . together, you said?”

“I . . . They’re very good for each other. They’ve been living together all this time.” Yoji shrugged. “Look, Omi’s got his head on straight. It’s not up to me to live his life for him, I figure.”

“Don’t you think it’s odd?” Ran pressed.

“What, exactly, about any of this is normal?” Yoji said, smiling. “Fuck, I want a cigarette.”

Ran shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “Don’t you think it’s odd that we’re all gay? Weiss? Schwartz? Well, I mean . . . I don’t know about Ken but . . .”

“Oh, he’s gay,” Yoji said, then clamped a hand over his mouth. “Shit. Aya, I’m not supposed to tell you that.”

Ran frowned and sat very, very still, processing all this. Finally, he said, “Is Ken seeing anybody? Please don’t tell me Farfarello—”

“Ew, God, no! Ew. No. Ew. God.” Yoji screwed up his face and shuddered. “Okay, I need to scrub my brain.”

“Yoji.”

“No, Ken isn’t seeing anyone. Ken hasn’t seen anyone since . . . in a long, long time,” Yoji said sadly, staring at him.

He let out a little sigh of relief. “So, don’t you think it’s odd? So many of us being gay? What about Crawford?”

Yoji nodded. “He’d been doing Schu since their school days, apparently.”

“ ‘Schu?’ ” Ran said, sounding like a father about to punish his child. “Did you just say Schu?”

Yoji sighed and rolled onto his back, resting his weight on his elbows. “Yeah. Before we let me get too comfortable in the hot seat, why don’t we talk about why you’re paying two thousand yen a night for a call boy?”

Ran squirmed. “I thought . . . I . . .”

“Right, you wanted someone to teach you to be Casanova. I got that much. My question is . . . why?”

Ran looked at him. Why? ~/~Because my little sister would fall apart, after everything, if she learned that her big brother was a pervert. Because I have to play mother and father to her for the next few years. Because no one will touch a cold prick like me; I scare them all away. Because I thought if I could hold someone in the dark, I could imagine for a moment that it was Ken . . .~\~ “I was lonely,” he decided on. “And I can never come out to Aya-chan.”

Yoji swallowed. He looked . . . pained. “Ran. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of living a lie.” The blond rolled over on his side and curled up in the fetal position. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Ran bit his lip. He had no idea what to say or do in emotional situations. If he couldn’t kill it, then he glared at it until it went away. That was just how he dealt with things. “So, stop doing it.”

Yoji sighed. “I made a promise to Omi.”

“Omi would kill you if he knew you were doing this to yourself,” Ran said with certainty. “You’ve always been stupid, Kudo, but this takes the cake.”

Yoji didn’t rise to the bait. He just stared out into space and said, “I’m tired.”

Frowning, Ran got up, grabbed up Yoji’s shirt, and deposited him on the bed. “Rest, then.”

“Hey, Aya—I mean, Ran. We better go downstairs and tell Masa you’re gonna cancel. Otherwise, he’ll charge you.”

Ran smiled bitterly. “No refunds. That was made quite clear when I booked the appointment.”

“Shit,” Yoji said. “Sorry.”

Ran lowered himself back to the bed. “Yoji,” he began.

“Yeah?”

How fragile was the other man? Would this break the tenuous goodwill between them? “Seeing as how I have you for the night . . .” He let that hang in the air for a while, until Yoji’s eyes opened wide with understanding. “Could you at least teach me how to kiss?” he whispered.

He waited for Yoji to hit him, but instead, the blond reached out and cupped his cheek. “You know, I would, but someone told me something . . . Funny thing about the man that takes your first time. You’ll always love him, just a little bit.”

Ran closed his eyes. “I see. You could have just said you didn’t want me. I would have underst—”

Yoji pulled him down and kissed him—a sweet press of closed lips, warm and gentle, but definitely not soft like a woman. He kept his eyes open for a moment, then closed them and pressed forward.

Yoji pulled away. “I think,” he whispered very softly, “that you’d better ask Ken for anything else.”

Ran blinked. “Am I so transparent?”

Yoji shrugged. “Date a telepath, pick up a few things.” He smiled. “Ran? You want him, don’t you?”

Sighing, Ran nodded.

“Then, you better tell him.”

“I can’t!” ~/~He doesn’t want me.~\~

“He has a right to know. Trust me.” Yoji pulled him down on the bed and hugged him. “Trust me.”

Closing his eyes, Ran let the blond cling to him. “I’m tired, too.”

Yoji didn’t say anything, and in moments, they were both asleep.

~*~

Ken actually enjoyed physical labor. It was a good thing, too. Omi had packed haphazardly, and so he spent most of the day trying to figure out what was in the boxes, instead of actually carrying them.

Schuldich didn’t lift a finger, just sat out on the balcony, smoking, glaring balefully at nothing. Nagi couldn’t lift anything, of course. That left Ken to lug in most of the boxes off of the rental truck. 

~*Omi sure did acquire a lot of shit. How many computers does one kid need? It’s not like we’re in Kritiker anymore.*~

Yoji had been late (as always) and didn’t appear until the afternoon, when Ken had unloaded everything. The lanky blond showed up in the backyard and called into Nagi’s room, “I’ve a bit of a surprise.”

Everyone turned—and there stood Aya Fujimiya. No, not Aya. Ran. 

Ran was in Schuldich’s backyard. Standing there in the middle of a smattering of autumn leaves, his hair a shock of gorgeous red. He wore a pale lavender sweater that brought out his eyes . . . he was holding bags of carry out food and smiled sheepishly at Ken.

“Is it all right?” Ran asked Nagi and Omi. “I’m not intruding?”

“Aya-kun,” Omi said, stunned.

“Ran, actually,” Yoji said. 

“Ran,” Ken said, stepping forward and then stopping. “What are you . . . ?”

“Yoji and I met up last night,” Ran said quietly. “He explained to me . . . some of what’s happening. Thought I’d see for myself. If that’s all right.”

Nagi looked, well, frightened. Understandably. Ran Fujimiya was intimidating on the best of days. 

“Come . . . come in!” Omi said, waving Ran through the sliding door.

Yoji walked slowly behind him and gave Ken an odd look. Both older men looked somewhat faded and . . . strained. 

“Welcome, Fujimiya-san. Schuldich and I had hoped for your blessing . . .” Nagi trailed off, uncertain.

Ran said nothing for a while, then looked at Omi. “This is what you want?”

“Yes, Aya-kun.”

Ran put down the bags and placed his hand on Omi’s head. “Ran. Aya’s my sister.”

“Sorry, Ran-kun,” Omi said quickly.

Ran ruffled his hair and let go. “I don’t think you need my blessing, but I won’t stand in your way. And if this is all a bizarre Schwartz plot,” Ran said, staring at Nagi as if he could shoot ice picks from his eyes, “I will draw their suffering out until they die from the lack of will to live.” Ran smiled. 

Nagi, surprisingly, smiled back. “I’d expect nothing less on Omi’s behalf.”

“Excellent!” Yoji said. “Well, we brought dinner, so how about a break? Kenken, you look tired, help yourself! There’s chopsticks and napkins and stuff in the bags. I’m just gonna go upstairs and see the lord of the manor for a moment, guys.”

With an air too casual to be anything other than a front, Yoji slipped out of the room.

Nagi let out a slow breath. “Good luck. I’ve never seen Schu in such a bad mood.”

Ran frowned. “Will he be all right?”

Nagi nodded. “Sure. He usually bounces back from—”

“I meant Yoji,” Ran said quickly. “Will he be all right alone with Schuldich?”

Nagi tilted his head. “Fujimiya-san. Schuldich’s never been this upset because he’s never cared for anybody this much. I think he’d sooner stab out his eyes than hurt Kudo-san. Which is not to say he won’t hurt Kudo-san, because, let’s face it, it’s Schuldich. But that’s between them. I’ve never seen Schu so broken up as he was yesterday. I think we should let them work it out on their own.” Nagi took a deep breath, as if he wasn’t used to talking so much and was now exhausted.

“Absolutely,” Omi said, rubbing Nagi’s arm gently. “Plus, there’s food!”

Ran let out a breath and chuckled slightly. “Right.”

Ken took up the bags and started settling things down on top of the boxes. Ran purposefully strode over and helped, then sat down beside him. He tried not to shiver when Ran's arm brushed against his own.

“Do you think it’s all right to start without them?” Ken asked hopefully, trying to latch onto a safe topic.

“I think they’ll take a while,” Ran murmured, handing him a plate. 

Ken blinked. “You’re remarkably calm about all this, Aya.”

Ran smiled at him. “Are you kidding? I’d like to murder you for keeping this from me. But I’ll take my share of the blame for that. Schuldich kidnapped my baby sister. I don't need to look hard for an excuse to kill him. But I gave Yoji my word I'd keep an open mind. And stop calling me Aya. Now, pass the soy sauce.”

Ken passed the soy sauce, because who could disobey Ran’s commanding voice?

“Hey,” Omi said, absently wiping Nagi’s chin with a napkin. “What are you up to, anyway, Ran-kun? I haven’t seen you in forever. What’s being a salary man like?”

Ran looked down at his plate. “I’m not a salary man.”

Ken startled. “You’re not? Did you get laid off?”

Ran shook his head. He looked at Omi. “Being a salary man is my cover. Manx set me up with an organization called Haus der Hoffnung.”

Nagi swallowed. “ ‘Hope House?’ ”

Ran nodded.

“What’s Hope House?” Ken asked.

Ran looked into Omi’s eyes. “We search and rescue lost children.”

Omi’s face. “Ran-kun . . .”

“Ran,” Ken breathed, feeling an intense swell of pride. “Is it dangerous?”

Ran slowly nodded. “Sometimes. I . . . I was hoping to ask you a favor. Should anything happen to me . . . Aya . . .”

“Of course—” Omi said.

“Naturally,” Ken said overtop him. “Don’t even worry about it. But . . . but why didn’t you tell us?”

Ran looked at him from under dark lashes. “For the same reason you didn’t tell me you were gay.” He looked at Omi. “Or that you were with Schwartz. I thought you’d tell me to stop.”

Omi frowned. “Well, you thought wrong. We’re family, Ran-kun.”

Ken nodded. “That’s right.” But internally, he was reeling. Ran knew he was gay. Did Yoji tell him that? ~*I’m going to kill Yoji. If Schuldich doesn’t first.*~ Did he know that Ken liked him? Did he mind? 

Ran took a bite of his food. “Yoji and I were remarking yesterday, how odd it was . . . that all of Weiss and Schwartz ended up being gay.”

Ken choked. Ran had to pat his back and help him take a drink. “Wha—what?”

The corners of Ran’s mouth twitched up. 

“Wasn’t it by design?” Nagi asked casually. “It was in Schwartz. Less of a mess if you don’t have to worry about operatives with families, kids. Fraternization encouraged, provided your teammates are stable enough,” he said bitterly.

Ken blinked. “Okay. No. Not so much, in Weiss. And Yoji? Straight as the day is long, before Schuldich. If Yoji got a wrinkle for every girl he banged, he’d be a prune.”

“Ken-kun,” Omi admonished.

But Ran and Nagi just grinned. 

“Seriously, Omi. I thought for a while there the man was a nymphomaniac.” Ken smiled.

Ran frowned slightly, scooping more rice onto Ken’s plate. “Appearances can be deceiving. For all his talk, Yoji actually slept with very few women during Weiss. Oh, don’t mistake me, the man was a slut. But we all deal with stress in different ways.”

Ken rolled his eyes and handed Ran more soy sauce, because he knew the redhead was going to want it soon anyway. 

“Hm,” Ran said, nodding thanks. 

“Wow, that’s a lot to take in,” Omi said around a mouthful of food. 

Ran nodded slowly. “There’s more.”

“There just had to be,” Nagi said softly, leaning his head on Omi’s shoulder.

“I haven’t been entirely honest,” Ran said quietly. “With you, Ken.”

~*~

Yoji slowly made his way up from the basement, passed through the kitchen, and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He leaned on the banister for a moment and thought hard ~Schu? Can I come up?~

Nothing. Not a word.

Sighing, he trudged up the steps, deliberately making noise so as not to startle the other man. But Schuldich was out on the balcony, having a smoke. He stared out at the other rooftops, squinting as the sun set. 

Yoji slowly approached and stepped out on the balcony. He didn’t say anything, but he left his channel totally open. Or at least, he thought he did. He tried to imagine himself completely open, almost to the point where he wanted to push his thoughts and feelings at the German.

Schuldich froze, the cigarette on its way to his lips. “Ran was behind door number three?”

Yoji nodded, though Schuldich couldn’t see that, with his back to him. “I didn’t sleep with anyone.”

Schuldich narrowed his eyes and pivoted slightly, still not facing Yoji entirely. 

"Well, no, not true. We slept, but that was all." Yoji could feel the other man’s mental ‘hand’ ghost over his consciousness. Suddenly, Schuldich’s hand twitched, and he dropped his cigarette.

“You quit Tarot?”

Yoji nodded. “I’m gone, after the Halloween party. Told Masa, I’m just not cut out for the business.” ~Besides, how could I be in anyone else’s arms . . . and not think of you?~

Schuldich spun around and glared at him. “Fuck you,” he said without any bite. “If you think this is gonna turn into one of those schmoopy movie love scenes where I come at you all grateful that you’ve stopped playing Moll Flanders, declare undying love for you, and we make mad passionate love all night long, think again.”

Yoji cocked his head. “How about you just come down to dinner instead, you selfish prick?” he asked convivially. “And then later we can negotiate who gets to be on top first.”

Schuldich blinked. Like he couldn't believe Yoji'd called his bluff. For a moment, Yoji worried that the German would turn back around and tell him it wasn’t that simple. 

//This could easily be one of those ‘can’t have your cake and eat it too’ moments that Brad was so fond of putting me through.// Schuldich sighed. “Good thing I’m so ravenously hungry.”

Yoji smiled and leaned on the doorframe. “Come on.”

Schuldich slowly walked forward. He was very careful not to touch Yoji on the way downstairs. 

But the time they got there, there were only some noodles and two soppy egg rolls left over, but hey, it was food that they didn’t have to cook themselves. 

“Don’t worry, Schuldich-san,” Omi said. “I’ll start making really good meals for us tomorrow!”

Schuldich grinned. “Just call me Schu, kid. I can’t take the way you butcher my name,” he said affectionately.

Omi smiled. 

“Ken,” Schuldich said suddenly. “What a preposterous thought.”

“Schuld—” Ken started.

“Of course Ran wants to fuck you. Ran’s wanted to fuck you since the day he clapped eyes on you,” Schuldich said, casually ducking the bottle of soy sauce lobbed at his head. 

“I’m not cleaning that up,” Nagi said darkly.

“Ken-kun,” Omi tried, noting Ken’s face slowly turning purple.

“And Ran,” Schuldich continued, fiddling with his noodles, “It’s about time you came out of the closet, you Ice Princess Bitch.” The German winked at Ran. “Now, there’s a spare bedroom upstairs. Why don’t you two run along and get it over with?”

Ken and Ran sputtered and turned various shades of fuchsia. Yoji just sighed. 

~I can’t take you anywhere.~

//We’re in my house, Kudo.//

Yoji nodded. 

“I think I should be going,” Ran said, starting to stand up.

“Che. Sit your bony ass down,” Schuldich said, pointing at Ran with his chopsticks. “Take a look around, Fujimiya. Omi brought everything but the kitchen sink. You can’t expect him and poor, injured Nagi to unpack everything themselves; it will take forever. Ken’s futon is set up in the spare room. Go share. Do naughty, naughty things to each other. I promise I won’t peak.” //Much,// Schuldich sent Yoji.

Ran squirmed. “Aya-chan . . .”

“Nagi, give the man your phone. He needs to call his sister and tell her he’s got a slumber party to attend tonight.”

Ran bristled. But then, the unexpected happened. Ken reached up and put his hand on Ran’s arm. They looked into each other’s eyes and Ran sort of . . . deflated. “Hand me the phone,” he said softly.

Gaping, Omi took the phone from Nagi and handed it to Ran.

“Do you have another futon?” Ran asked Schuldich as he dialed the number.

“No,” Schuldich said with relish.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ran walked out of the room and started talking to Aya-chan in that soft, sweet, big-brother-voice of his. Ken just sort of stood there, blinking. 

“This is so surreal,” Ken murmured.

“Isn’t it?” Schuldich turned to him. “You gonna eat the rest of that egg roll, Kudo?”

Sighing slowly, Yoji handed his plate to Schuldich. “Help yourself.”

Ran finished his phone call and then came back in. He handed the phone to Nagi and then said softly to Ken, “Wanna go upstairs?”

Ken nodded stupidly. 

Yoji wanted to give a little ‘whoop’ for joy, but that probably would have just made Ran punch him again. Schuldich grinned and ate his egg roll, a supremely self-satisfied air about him.

“Wow,” Omi breathed when they left. “I never thought . . .”

Yoji nodded. He looked over at Nagi and said, “You okay, kid?”

“Ah, yeah. I think I just need one of my pills.”

Schuldich was up faster than the rest of the them could follow with their eyes. He handed Nagi a blue pill and his drink. “How’s the arm?”

Nagi took a sip and nodded.

“You should rest, Naoe.” Schuldich put the drink down. “Omi, don’t keep him up late with hot monkey sex.”

“Oh, God, thank you for that image,” Yoji muttered, picking up the trash and leftovers. 

Schuldich got up the cans of beer and soda and turned to look at the boys. Omi was cradling Nagi gently and tucking the covers around them.

“We'll be all right, Schu-san,” the boy said. “I’ll take care of him.”

Schuldich nodded. “That’s why you’re here.” He smiled and herded Yoji out the door.

They went up to the kitchen and threw the trash away, then stared at each other awkwardly. 

~You suppose Ken and Ran are getting it on right now?~

Schuldich shot Yoji the mental picture of Ran, spread out on his back, Ken overtop of him, both of them going at each other’s mouths like there was no tomorrow.

“Wow. Okay.” Yoji blinked. He blinked again.

“You kissed him,” Schuldich said softly.

Yoji cringed. ~He needed it. I didn’t even open my mouth.~

Schuldich just looked at him from the corner of his eye. Eventually, he crooked a finger.

Without hesitation, Yoji went over and stood as close to Schuldich as he dared. Surprisingly, Schuldich didn’t go for his mouth. He bent down and laved at Yoji’s throat, kissing the necklace, tugging on it with his teeth.

//My White Knight.//

“Schu,” Yoji whispered brokenly, his hands threading through Schuldich’s long, orange hair. “Say you forgive me?”

//Past saying sorry, aren’t we, baby?// Schuldich placed his forefinger on Yoji’s lips and slowly slid it in and out, all the while sucking on Yoji’s neck.

“Ugh . . . Schu . . .”

Schuldich added a second finger. Yoji was sure to get them good and wet. ~Kiss me?~

The German pulled him close and kissed him, deftly undoing Yoji’s jeans and pushing them down his hips. Two slick fingers entered him, and Yoji sobbed a little into Schuldich’s mouth.

//I think if I ever have to share you with anyone else, I’ll go insane and start killing any man that ever looked at you with desire.//

Yoji moaned, half turned on by Schuldich’s possessiveness, and half afraid, because he knew that Schuldich was serious. The German got down on his knees and took Yoji into his mouth, and then, coherent thought wasn’t really possible.

He just remembered pleasure. Brutal, sadistically gentle pleasure. And then Schuldich was sort of carrying him upstairs and lowering him onto bed. The older man covered his body and Yoji wrapped around his heat, holding on tight. 

~I never expected it to be like this. Us . . .~

//Half choice, half destiny. Now give me your mouth.//

Yoji leaned up and let Schuldich kiss him. Schuldich pulled the threads of their consciousness together, and there were stars and music and intense, liquid emotions. It was warm and primal and there wasn’t language to describe the places Schuldich took Yoji in his mind. 

He’d never seen the German cry before, but a tear or two fell on his face, before they were through. 

Schuldich was still latched onto Yoji’s mouth when dawn broke.


	8. Chapter 8

Ran’s mouth was swollen from being so kissed so much. He looked over at Ken—who was sleeping, nestled under the covers beside him, a tiny bubble of drool at the corner of his mouth.

He smiled.

Last night had been . . . amazing. Truly amazing. 

He had no idea what had come over him. Sometimes certain missions required that Ran be away from his sister at night, but he never just randomly decided to stay over someone else’s house—especially a house belonging to Schwartz. Well, former Schwartz.

And he was never one to just openly confess his feelings. Hell, he’d repressed and then silenced himself for years. Suddenly, Schuldich opens his big mouth, and all these secrets unravel. And look at the result . . .

A naked, sated, happy Ken Hidaka in his arms.

~/~Thank you, God.~\~

//You’re welcome. Now, if you can bother to rouse yourselves, Omi’s making us breakfast. Come on down.//

Ran was sort of disturbed by Schuldich’s voice in his mind first thing in the morning, but . . . ~/~Did you do this, Schuldich?~\~

//What?//

~/~Yesterday I was going through the motions, trapped, and full of hate. You and Yoji come back into my life, and suddenly I’ve got the one I've been dreaming of for so long. I don’t know if I can trust that it all just sort of happened so easily.~\~

A short pause, and he could feel Schuldich’s soft smile. //Fujimiya. Everything happens for a reason.//

Ken woke up slowly, and Ran could feel Schuldich withdraw from their link. He waited until brown eyes blinked open fully, and then Ran touched their foreheads together.

“Any regrets?” he asked softly.

“Yes. The night was too short.” Ken rolled over on top of Ran and kissed him, licking and sucking eagerly at his mouth.

Ran groaned. “Schuldich . . . says . . . Omi . . . cooked . . . breakfast . . .” he said between kisses.

“Yummy,” Ken murmured, licking a hot trail down Ran’s chest. 

Ran fisted the sheets when Ken started laving at his prick. His legs fell open and he hissed. “Ah, Ken . . .”

Ken massaged his balls and took him in deep—he was sort of surprised, but Ken seemed to know what he was doing last night and Ran didn’t really feel like he had the right to question—besides, deep thinking went right out the window when the head of his prick hit the back of Ken’s throat.

He came biting on the back of his hand. 

Ken looked down at him with hooded eyes. The younger man scooted up and rubbed the pads of two fingers over Ran’s lips. “Open for me?”

Ran’s lips parted slightly. 

Ken fisted his cock over Ran’s open mouth, beating just the very tip of his prick on Ran’s lower lip. Ken looked so sexy like this . . .

“Augh . . . Ah . . .” Ken sighed, jerking himself faster and faster.

Ran lifted his head and flicked his tongue over Ken’s slit. 

Ken came all over his face, and strangely, Ran didn’t mind. In fact, he smiled at the thought that Ken could so easily lose his control, just from that . . .

The younger man scooted down and licked his face clean. “Did you say something about breakfast?” he murmured, kissing his way along Ran’s jaw line.

Ran laughed. 

~*~

“Jesus Christ, they’re at it again,” Schuldich muttered, sipping his coffee.

Yoji didn’t say anything. Yoji, unlike Schuldich, didn’t want to be a hypocrite. 

“Be nice,” Nagi said, leaning heavily on his cane. 

“Sit down, love,” Omi murmured, pulling out Nagi’s chair before turning back to the pancakes. “I would appreciate it if you did nothing to upset the fragile balance that Ran-kun and Ken-kun have finally achieved.”

Schuldich blinked and turned to Yoji. “Is that Omi’s way of saying he’ll rearrange my innards with that spatula if I embarrass the lovebirds?”

“Yes,” Yoji said simply.

“Right, then.” Schuldich drank more of his coffee.

Yoji smiled softly and watched as Ken and Ran sheepishly came downstairs in their clothing from yesterday, now rumpled and . . . was Ran’s sweater torn?

//Don’t ask. But Hidaka has a thing for ripping Ran out of his clothes.//

~Like you can throw stones, you pervert.~

//You know you love it.//

Yoji smirked and pushed the carafe of orange juice at Ken. 

They all sat down and waited, making small talk, until Omi piled pancakes on their plates. And then, the remarkable happened.

Weiss and Schwartz ate breakfast together.

And Schuldich behaved.

~*~

Never had Schuldich truly wanted to kill someone, half as much as he wanted to kill the financial records secretary of Tokyo University registrar’s office.

He dreamed of choking her with her ruffled cravat. He salivated at the thought of stabbing her to death with her fountain pen. Given time, he was sure he could devise new methods of torture, simply using the silver chain on her pair of glasses, an eraser, and the less-than-inspiring inspirational calendar hanging on the ugly gray wall behind her.

As it, was, however, he filled out form after form in triplicate, and did his best to remember super-polite Japanese. 

Nagi sat beside him, hopped up on painkillers, looking slightly green. Omi was not happy about letting Nagi move around much, but Schuldich needed him present to finish registering him for the Spring. 

Omi hovered protectively behind their chairs, making the secretary lady slightly nervous, and, in turn, hostile.

**She doesn’t seem to want to help us. Do you think it’s because you’re a foreigner, Schu-san?** 

//I think it’s because you’re hovering over Nagi like a mother hen on crack. Look, could you go . . . get a drink from the vending machine or something?//

“Ah. Sure,” Omi said.

The secretary raised an eyebrow, because no one had said anything.

Omi smiled. “My pager just went off. I’ll be going now. Sorry! Er . . . yeah. Bye.”

The three of them watched Omi stride over to the door and walk out, slamming it shut.

“That young man could stand to drink a little less caffeine, perhaps,” the secretary said.

“Excellent notion,” Schuldich agreed. 

Nagi sort of nodded, his pupils huge. 

This was great. This broad was five minutes away from determining that the psycho orange-haired foreigner had Omi on uppers and Nagi on downers and fuck, why were the kanji on these forms so bloody complicated?

Schuldich glanced over at the woman and then down at her name card. “Nagiyuma-san, is it?”

She pinned him with a cold stare. “Yes?”

Schuldich smiled warmly and latched on to the psychic signature in poor, unsuspecting Nagiyuma-san’s mind. “I’d like to discuss financial aid . . .”

~*~

“Are you certain you wish to leave us, Diva?” Masa asked for perhaps the hundredth time since Yoji had given his notice.

He nodded. “Sorry, Boss. Got a boyfriend now that stays up nights, worrying about me flirting with other fellas.”

Which was the polite way of putting it.

“Such a shame, one man robbing so many others of such a beauty.” Masa winked. “And I’m not only losing a host, but a party planner too! It’s a shame.”

Yoji smiled. Masa was sincere about it, too. “Well. You wouldn’t want me to keep on working here with my heart not in it, though, right?”

Masa gently clapped Yoji on the back. “Diva, you are perhaps the only one here who ever put his heart into anything. It is perhaps a very good thing that you go.”

Yoji nodded. “Have you found a replacement for me yet?” he asked over the music. Tarot was just starting to open. The lights went down and the serving staff was finishing up restocking the bar.

“Can’t say that I have. I hope to find someone before next week. Halloween is going to be busy.”

He slipped his arm around Masa’s back and said casually, “Have you given any thought to Jun? I know he’s young, but I think he’d make an excellent host.”

“Jun-kun? The bartender?”

“Yeah. I think he’s got what it takes. And he’s easy on the eyes.” Yoji smiled. He couldn’t believe he was actually pimping someone to a pimp. 

“Hm. Could do. Could do.” Masa rubbed his hands together, bowed to Yoji, and walked over to the bar.

Yoji smiled and pored over his notebooks again. There was so much to order for the party. 

~*~

Five days later, Omi got a very strange, thick letter in the mail. Which was odd, because he hadn’t yet had a chance to tell anyone that he’d moved into Schuldich’s house.

But there it was, a big, giant white envelope from Tokyo University. At first, he thought it was for Nagi, for enrolling in the Spring. But Nagi had already gotten another envelope yesterday with his class assignments and whatnot. 

And this was definitely addressed to him. He could tell, because there was his name in big, bold kanji.

“You gonna open it, or just stare lovingly at it for a few more hours?” Schuldich asked, handing Omi a letter opener.

“Thank you,” Omi said absently. He ripped through the envelope and briefly read through the letter . . . It was like the characters were all bleeding together. Frowning, he read it again.

“ 'You are eligible for the Golden Apple’s full scholarship in the practice of medicine at Tokyo University Medical School . . .' ” Omi trailed off, his lips still moving as he read on. “This isn’t possible.”

“All things are possible with faith,” Schuldich intoned blandly. “When’s lunch?”

“Schu-san, this letter says I have a full ride to Tokyo University with something called the Golden Apple scholarship. Apparently it’s for independent students with perfect test scores.”

“Huh,” Schuldich said, not sounding the least bit interested. “Imagine that. How nice. So, when’s lunch?”

Nagi walked in, limping without really using his cane. He stopped short at Omi’s expression. “What’s wrong, Omi-chan?”

Omi repeated what he’d told Schuldich.

Nagi’s eyes widened. “That’s wonderful news!”

“But . . . but . . . but . . . I didn’t apply for the . . . Golden Apple . . . thingy. I didn’t even know about the Golden Apple thingy.”

“Weiss has a thing for using the word 'thingy,' ” Schuldich said mildly, rooting around in the fridge. 

“Huh?” Omi asked. “You think maybe someone is playing a trick on me?”

Schuldich shook his head and made a face at the bare fridge. “We need to go shopping again. You growing boys sure do eat a fucking ton.”

“Schu-san?”

Schuldich looked at him. “Do you want me to pinch you to prove that you’re awake? Look, you got a letter in the mail. School’s all paid for. Congratulations. Why are you asking dumb questions? You ever heard the expression, ‘take the money and run?’”

“No,” Omi said simply. **Is that one of those weird German expressions?**

“Mein Gott,” Schuldich murmured, palming his face. “Maybe the registrar’s office meant to sign you up for the Golden Apple last year, automatically, but forgot all about it. You know how those crazy academic offices are. You could probably register a goat for classes for half a year before they realized that you’d signed up Yagi-sama for Basket Weaving 101.”

"That's ridiculous," Omi said.

"You're absolutely right. No one teaches Basket Weaving anymore. Dried floral arrangements, however . . ."

“Schu,” Nagi said, “please tell me you didn’t sign a goat up for any electives.”

Schuldich threw up his hands. “Like I’m going to sign a goat up for CORE courses. Christ, Nagi, goats can’t even read!”

Nagi squeezed his eyes shut in that way that Omi recognized was reserved just for dealing with Schuldich. 

“You registered a goat?” Omi asked.

“Not a real goat. I haven’t got a real goat.” Schuldich pouted. “Omi, will you make us lunch? I’m starving.”

Smiling, Omi put his papers down. He wasn’t sure if he could really believe in this sudden good fortune—he’d have to do some research on the Golden Apple—but for now, he was happy to make Schuldich and Nagi a good, warm meal. Especially since the fall was turning more and more chilly these days.

“Of course. What would you like?”

“Miso,” both men answered.

~*~

Ken and Ran had spent the rest of the week fucking every which way ‘til Sunday. Literally. They made love in Ken’s apartment, in Ran’s house, in Ran’s car, in the shower, on the stairs . . . Of course, they were very, very careful never to let Aya-chan become aware of any of the clandestine affairs. For all she knew, her big brother was just hanging out with one of his former flower shop coworkers.

Ran still didn’t think he could come out to her, and Ken could be patient on that front . . . one, because he hadn’t come out to Ran for years, and two, because when Ran finally did work up the nerve, he knew Aya would be cool with it.

They’d talked about, and Ran offered to rent the spare bedroom out to Ken. Ran wanted to keep Ken close—Ken wanted to be close, but didn’t have a car. Ken wanted to continue teaching high school, but while Ran worked some nights for Hope House, he wanted someone close by to keep an eye out for Aya. The rent was ridiculously low, and Ken’s apartment was little more than a prison cell anyway, so . . .

After much debate, he said yes. 

And he was happy about that.

And it was weird, because he sort of owed that happiness to Schuldich, for being such a dick and outing them both. And also to Yoji. For being a whore. Sort of. It was very confusing. But it didn’t seem just like random coincidence, either. 

Ken didn’t think he could be any happier, and then he got a call from Omi. The boy was so excited that it took a good forty or fifty seconds of breathless rambling before Ken could understand him. Something about a gold apple and medical school—the bottom line being that Omi had received a full scholarship.

Which was wonderful news.

He couldn’t wait to tell that to Yoji. The blond man had really been upset about quitting his job—not just because somehow he had to make rent, but also because he’d made a promise to Omi, and Yoji never broke a promise.

Ken picked up the phone and dialed Yoji just as Ran got out of the shower. He was momentarily distracted by the white towel that hung low on Ran’s hips, but then Yoji picked up.

He related his happy news, but Yoji was silent on the other end of the line. 

“Yo-tan? What’s wrong?”

“Doesn’t add up. A year of going to medical school and all of the sudden, in mid-October, he gets a full ride? Doesn’t add up.”

Ken paused. Yoji was right. He didn’t even really question it, he was just so happy to have everything taken care of, for once. “Well . . . who knows? It could all have been a paperwork mix up?”

“You sure Omi really has this scholarship?”

“Pretty darn sure. Omi got a bunch of paperwork with his information all over it.”

Yoji swallowed. “Paperwork.”

Ken frowned, looking over at Ran. “Yeah.”

“Hm. I wonder if it really is supposed to be for Nagi. Schu took Nagi in to register last week; maybe it’s his money . . .”

“But the Golden Apple is for medicine and Nagi’s going into architecture.”

Yoji chortled. “Schu went in last week . . .”

Ken’s face went momentarily slack, causing Ran to become concerned. “You think Schuldich did his . . . mind thingy?”

“I’m positive,” Yoji said immediately. “That son of a sexy bitch.”

Ken frowned and mouthed Yoji’s idea to Ran. Ran shrugged and held up his hands. “Well . . . I suppose it’s possible.”

“I think I need to call him and make sure,” Yoji said.

“Right, of course.”

Yoji quickly hung up. Ken turned to Ran, hoping to discuss all the weirdness, but soon he found his mouth otherwise occupied.

~*~

Schuldich was just finishing up his soup when the phone rang. Omi talked excitedly at one of the Weiss boys—clearly, just by the tone—a little digging and he could tell it was Yoji on the other end of the line, asking a billion questions about the Golden Apple.

He smirked.

“What have you done?” Nagi asked quietly.

“I put your boyfriend back in medical school,” he murmured breezily.

“So it was you,” Nagi said.

“Hey. Don’t think I’m going to support your lame ass forever. You’ve got a doctor in your back pocket if you play your cards right. You should be grateful.”

A beat. Nagi blinked. “I am.”

“Schu-san? Yoji wants to talk to you.”

Omi handed him the phone. “What’s up, baby?”

“I’m going to suck your cock until you cry, you psychotic bastard,” Yoji murmured through the phone.

Mental images assaulted Schuldich—Yoji was touching himself at that very moment, moaning into the phone, sending him all these lustful thoughts.

“Yo-Yoji,” he croaked, jerking in his seat.

“I’m gonna make you so very, very glad you did Omi that favor.”

Schuldich closed his eyes as he felt Yoji throw him up against the wall and suck his dick through their link. “Ha . . . ha . . . ugh!”

Omi and Nagi looked at him with a mixture of concern and fear. But there was nothing he could do about it, because his lover was hot and determined and they were so closely bonded by now that . . . 

“God, Yoji!” Schuldich gasped, coming in his pants, right there at the kitchen table. He panted, gripping the edge of his seat, trembling. When he found his voice, he said, “You are one grateful kitty.”

“I’ll see you at the party tonight.”

“Yeah. Sure. My pleasure.” He clicked the phone off and lowered his head to the table.

“Schu-san?” Omi said. “You just experienced symptoms similar to a stroke.”

“Orgasm, Omi,” he said, chuckling. “I just experienced an orgasm. You know how Yo-tan is.” He winked. //Slut.//

Omi frowned and nodded carefully. “I see.”

Nagi tugged on Omi’s sleeve. “What’s say we go . . . not be here?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Omi agreed. They both backed out of the kitchen.

Schuldich smiled despite the fact that he was now going to have to change his pants. 

~*~

Tarot’s Halloween party was sold out. Yoji had the place done up to look like a gothic mansion. The serving staff all wore clothing from different historical periods, finished off with a nice pair of fangs. There were candles everywhere and a full piece orchestra. He’d even managed to get bolts of red and black silk on sale, strewed about over the lights and more modern-looking furniture. 

Yoji himself did not go as a vampire or a cat-boy. In fact, he wore a simple, elegant white suit and a silver breast plate. He had a small toy sword hanging off his belt and a tiny round shield strapped to his right arm. He looked absolutely nothing like a knight. But he looked every inch the sultry call boy dressed up as a knight, and that was what he was going for.

Schuldich certainly appreciated the effort when he and the gang dropped by. Masa had said that since the Halloween bash was serving as Yoji’s farewell party, he could invite a few friends. Ran and Ken showed up; for the holiday, Aya-chan had made Ran wear knock-off samurai armor and Ken good naturedly put on a ten-gallon white cowboy hat and red bandana. (Of course, she had no idea their costume party was taking place in one of Tokyo’s most prestigious gay bars, but, details, details . . .) 

Omi wore a pair of angel wings and Nagi had a pair of little gray mouse ears. He was still using his cane, but got around pretty well.

Schuldich showed up in a black tux complete with a red, red rose boutonnière. He sported two little red horns on his head, smiling wickedly at Yoji when he spotted everyone at table twelve.

~The Devil himself.~

//You know it, baby.//

“Good evening, kittens,” Schuldich said, sliding into the booth and wrapping an arm around Yoji. //How ya feeling?//

~Good. Glad you’re here.~ 

“Of course I’m here. Where’s Jun? I want cigarettes and alcohol.”

Smiling, Yoji raised his hand, and Jun was there momentarily.

“That’s a nice outfit!” Omi said sincerely. 

Jun was dressed as a Persian boy, in what looked like really fancy red pajamas with ballooned pants. “Thanks! So, everyone, what’ll it be?”

The gang placed their drinks and Jun was back with a piled-high tray in minutes. “Ugh,” he said, lowering the last drink on the table. “Won’t miss this part of the job.”

Yoji smiled. “So, Masa offered you my table?”

Jun nodded. “Seems someone put in a good word for me.”

Everyone looked at Yoji, but he just nodded and looked down at his drink.

“So what about you?” Jun asked. “What’ve you got lined up that’s making you give up all this?” He swept his hand around the club.

~I’ve got a lover,~ Yoji thought, but it would have been too sappy to say it out loud. “I just need something on a different speed. But I don’t know what, yet. I don’t have anything lined up.” ~And I have no idea how to make next month’s rent . . .~

“Huh. Wow,” Jun said. “Well, good luck with that, okay?” He smiled and hurried over to another table. 

Ran cleared his throat. “I hope I’m not presuming . . .”

“Oh, please, presume,” Yoji invited, sipping his drink.

“Well, Manx was just saying the other day, how nice it would be to have more operatives in Haus der Hoffnung. It’s not as exciting as Weiss, but there’s plenty more adventure than I can handle on my own. And it’s a good cause.”

Everyone at the table was quiet.

“Is there a lot of killing, Ran?” Yoji asked somberly.

“Been doing it six months. Only had to take out two bastards. They were gonna rape an eleven-year-old.” Everyone at the table winced. Except Nagi. Nagi sort of drew in on himself, Yoji noticed. 

“So, you just . . . ?”

“I go where the search and rescue teams tell me, and I bust in and bring the kids back, if I can. But, aside from that, there’s plenty of detective work. I don’t really have a mind for research, I’m more hands-on, but you . . .”

“Yeah,” Yoji said suddenly. He was pretty sure that that was what he was supposed to do. Half choice, half destiny. It was what he was good at, and it was a good calling. “Yeah, tell Manx I’m interested.”

Schuldich cleared his throat. “I know that Kritiker probably doesn’t want former Schwartz within a hundred miles of their base. Is it okay for Yoji to see me, if he works for Manx?”

Ran nodded. “They already knew about you two. Long before I did.”

Schuldich smirked. “I knew we were being watched.”

Yoji sighed. To be expected, he guessed. “Well, at least I’ll be back on the inside . . . And hey, the paychecks will at least let me keep my little shanty.”

“Fuck that,” Schuldich said. “How much longer until you move in? There’s that big empty bedroom going to waste.”

Everyone stared at Yoji.

//That is,// Schuldich thought suddenly, worried, frowning, //if you want me. You don’t have to say yes.//

“Yes,” Yoji whispered, inwardly so excited he had to take a drink to keep from squealing like an idiot. 

“Ah, man,” Ken said. “You stole our thunder.”

“What?” Omi asked. Everyone looked at Ran and Ken.

“We’re moving in together, too,” Ken said sheepishly.

“I . . . have to explain a few things to Aya-chan first,” Ran mumbled, blushing.

“ 'Atta boy, Red,” Schuldich said, firing his finger at Ran like a gun. 

“Er . . . yeah . . .” Ran looked anywhere but at the rest of the table. Well, they all were grinning like morons.

“So, how about we order some food? It’s on the house tonight,” Yoji said, squeezing Schuldich’s hand under the table. 

“What’s on the menu?” Nagi asked.

“There is no menu, Nagikins,” Schuldich said. “This place has too much class.”

Yoji sat back and watched his friends . . . Ran and Ken sat close together, chatting with Omi about what food to get. Schuldich leaned over to Nagi, checking to see if he needed more medicine. Everyone was chattering happily, perfectly at ease, enjoying each other.

He’d never been so happy.

//Say that after I get you home, kitten.//

Smiling, Yoji closed his eyes and tried to imprint this moment in his memory forever.

Schuldich had given him this. Had given him back his friends. A new future, doing what he loved. Not just a house, but a home. Where would he be, if Schuldich hadn’t randomly decided to walk into Tarot one night?

~*~

Two months later, Schuldich was at home, in his pajama bottoms and nothing else, poring over casework from Haus der Hoffnung. Pictures of missing kids were very helpful. If he could see their faces, he could find them. Pick up the threads of their links.

Manx had been extremely reluctant to let him into Kritiker. She wasn’t convinced until Ran and Yoji brought her to the house—then when she’d seen Omi’s medical books everywhere, and Nagi’s CAD pencils all over the place, plus Schuldich, standing there in his “Kiss the Cook” apron, muttering to himself because it was his turn to make dinner . . . she’d realized how much they’d changed. 

She let a few cases trickle down to Schuldich; seemingly impossible ones, lost causes. He’d had a one-hundred-percent success rate. After that, she sent more and more files home with Yoji. Yoji and Ran were almost obsessed with finding kidnapped and lost kids. And the more success stories, the happier and more open they’d both become. 

Omi, for his part, seemed really glad at the important work they were doing, but he carefully kept on the outskirts of it. Schuldich didn’t blame him. Schuldich, Nagi, and Omi had all been lost boys—Schuldich was a run away, Nagi was sold out, and Omi was kidnapped. They were all glad to have Ran and Yoji out there as White Knights, but, thinking too much about the cases mad the boys sad.

They had their whole lives ahead of them. Schuldich didn’t want them looking back.

He didn’t mind so much. He knew how important this was to Yoji. More than that, though he’d probably never say it out loud, he cherished being able to use his gift to do the right thing, for once. It was a rare opportunity Kritiker was giving him and he didn’t want to fuck it up.

So sometimes he went overboard, and Omi and Nagi had to rip the case files out of Yoji and Schuldich’s hands and make them go upstairs to ‘take a bath,’ which was code for screw like bunnies.

And in the past two months, Schuldich and Yoji had had some really great sex, that was for sure. But mostly, the best times were falling asleep and waking up together. The guest bedroom never did get used. Schuldich wasn’t alone anymore. He wasn’t empty. And neither was Yoji. They were connected. Truly connected. And Yoji wanted him—craved their bond, just as much as he did. 

Between the good deeds at work, Omi’s nutritious cooking, and Schuldich fucking him into oblivion each night, Yoji flourished. He looked healthy, he filled out his clothes, and he smiled all the damn time. 

Things were going very, very well. Just like his dream had said . . .

He dreamed that he was sitting in a garden, and everything was blanketed by white snow. Even the flowers glittered and sparkled in the faint sun. He was sitting on a snow-covered bench, but it wasn’t wet or cold. Just . . . quiet. Soft. Reverent.

He heard the crunch of footsteps and didn’t bother to look up, because he knew it was Bradley.

The older man sat down beside him and spread his arms out on either side of the bench’s back. “So, here I am.”

“Hello, Brad.”

“Schu.” Brad pushed up his glasses. “You’ve come to say goodbye to me, then?”

Schuldich licked his lips. His chest hurt. “You’re the oracle.”

“You have. You’ve come to let me go.” Brad said this gently. Well, as gently as possible, for him. “And I’ve come to let you let me go.”

Schuldich shivered. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Brad said quickly. “This is what I wanted for you. This is what I envisioned.”

“This is why you died,” Schuldich said.

“Partly, yes.”

“Why?” Schuldich whispered.

“Because . . . he loves you. I never could, you know.”

Snow started falling lightly.

“I know.” Schuldich still couldn’t look at Brad. Not sure why, but he couldn’t. “Any regrets?”

“You know how I feel about those.” Bradley sniffed.

“Yes. Everything happens for a reason. Regrets are pointless.” Schuldich shifted his weight suddenly. “It occurs to me that having regrets is what makes us human. And . . . I want to be human, Bradley. I don’t want god-like power, without emotion. I want everything, even regrets. I’m tired of being a wild thing.”

Brad titled his head—Schuldich could see it from the corner of his eye.

“ ‘I never saw a wild thing feel for sorry for itself. A small bird will drop, frozen dead on the bough, without ever having felt sorry for itself.’ ” 

“D.H. Lawrence.” Bradley nodded sagely. “Yes. That’s definitely you, Schuldich. You were my wild thing.”

Schuldich suddenly noticed the cold, but he didn’t bother to rub his hands or shiver.

“He’s tamed you,” Bradley said softly. “In a way.”

Schuldich said nothing.

“Do you mind?”

“He loves me. I think.”

Bradley cocked his head. “Even if he doesn’t, you said you want even regrets.”

“Yes.” Schuldich shifted. “I’m having a hard time forgiving you for dying the way you did, Bradley.”

“So don’t forgive me, then. I don’t need you to.”

“But I need to. I need . . . to let go.”

“I don’t mind.”

Schuldich smirked. “Is this the part where you tell me part of you will always live on in my heart?”

Bradley snickered, in true Bradley fashion, and shook his head. “This is the part where I tell you you’ve got a real chance to be happy, don’t fuck it up like you always do.”

Schuldich nodded. “Can you still see the future?”

“I can see infinite futures.” There was no pride in Brad’s voice when he said this. He was merely stating fact.

“Is Esset going to bother us?”

Bradley looked at him. “The exorcism took out the Elders. They were using all their combined power for the ritual.”

“I see,” Schuldich said.

“I also hired assassins to take out the other ring leaders around the world, during the ceremony. You should be good, if you watch your back.”

Schuldich finally turned to look at Bradley. He looked . . . at peace. Younger. Not as cold. Cold as the snow, but it didn’t burn the way ice usually did. “Thank you.”

Bradley nodded and looked away. The snow started melting, very slowly. “I have to go soon.”

“Why?”

“You’re going to wake up. Yoji will be back soon. He’s putting flowers on Asuka’s grave. It looks like you’re both saying goodbye.”

“Oh . . .” Schuldich stared out into the white void for a while. “Brad?”

“Hm.”

“Did you really never love me?”

“In my way, yes, I did. Very much. How else do you explain living with you all those years and never strangling you in your sleep?”

Schuldich cracked up. Then he sobered. “How come you’re not in hell?”

Bradley paused. “Oh, I am.”

“What?”

“We make our own hells, Schuldich. I was in mine when I was alive. My last act was a kind of atonement. I’m here to think about that. To think about what I’ve done. To . . . regret, I suppose.”

“To be human,” Schuldich insisted.

“If you like.”

“What about Farfarello?”

Brad paused. “Farfarello feels the need to suffer a bit more than I do, perhaps.”

“So . . . fire and brimstone?”

“Would you expect anything less?” Brad asked dryly.

The snow melted more rapidly now. The sun shone brighter. Schuldich could see colors suddenly—flowers, peaking out from the white. The snow turned into white flower petals as the garden transformed into Spring.

“It’s changing,” Schuldich said.

“Yes. I am,” Brad said. “Thank you for taking care of Nagi for me.”

“I always will,” Schuldich promised.

Brad stood up. “You have to go now.”

“Can I see you again?”

“Someday.”

Schuldich frowned. “Can I kiss you goodbye?”

Bradley shook his head. “You are a romantic sap.”

Ignoring him, Schuldich leaned over and pressed his mouth to Brad’s. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm, either. 

“Wake up, now, Schu. Find your lost children. Find yourself.” Bradley stroked his face. “And for Christ sakes, give up smoking, the both of you.”

Schuldich grinned through his tears. “Fuck you, you prissy bastard,” he whispered, kissing Brad again.

He woke up crying.

He got up, but the house was empty. Omi had taken Nagi to one of his physical therapy sessions—Nagi could walk on his own now, with practice, and his arm cast was almost ready to come off. Ran and Ken were taking Aya-chan to get a Christmas tree. And Yoji, according to his note, was off to do some last minute holiday shopping, but Schuldich kinda knew he'd be stopping by Asuka's grave.

Schuldich looked outside, not at all surprised to see it lightly snowing. He headed downstairs, made himself a cup of coffee, and opened a case file. 

He just started getting into the details, when the doorbell rang. With no regard for modesty, (or the cold) Schuldich answered the door.

“Delivery for Shoduriku-san?” a man said, his breath huffing out in white tendrils.

Schuldich winced. “That would be me.”

“Sign here.”

Schuldich signed, curious. Everyone he knew (or wanted to receive a package from) lived within a nine mile radius of his house. Who would mail him something? //I really hope I’m not getting a severed horse’s head for Christmas, or anything.//

The delivery man motioned to the truck behind him, and several men came out and started hauling in long, heavy crates.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Schuldich said, trying to block the door and failing miserably. “What the hell is all this crap?”

The delivery guy shrugged. “Your order. Don’t worry, we’re full service. We’ll put it together.”

“Put it . . . together . . . ?”

Half an hour later, Schuldich sat on the couch, staring at his black baby grand piano as the delivery guys finished putting on the pedals and fine-tuning the strings. 

To say he was dazed would be an understatement. 

Eventually, the men took up all the cardboard and plastic and cloth, rolled the piano into the corner of the living room, and shook his hand, clearly expecting a big tip. 

“Just a sec.” Schuldich fished through Yoji’s coat and handed them a couple hundred yen each, making a mental note to pay his lover back.

When he was alone again, he stared at the piano, almost afraid to go near it. Curiosity got the better of him, however, and he warily approached the instrument. He sat down on the white-cushioned bench and experimentally held down middle C. 

The guys had done a good job—it was tuned well. 

He lovingly stroked his knuckles over the whites. There was only one person in the world who could possibly have bothered to get him a baby grand piano. The question was, how could he afford it?

“I’m home!” Yoji called, slamming the front door shut. 

Schuldich waited for the blond to kick the snow from his boots and unzip his coat.

“Anybody here?”

//Living room.//

Yoji happily sauntered over. “Hey. You were sleeping so soundly this morning, Schu, I just . . .” Yoji trailed off, taking in the piano.

Schuldich watched him carefully. Just a tiny bit of surprise.

“Oh, it came early,” Yoji murmured. “I was hoping it would come on Christmas Eve and we could have a big, dramatic unveiling.” He smiled sheepishly. “But, it’s okay, right? You like it?”

“Come here,” Schuldich said softly. 

Yoji walked over. “Is it . . . okay?”

Schuldich nodded. “How did you pay for it?”

Yoji grinned. “Remember that time I was a whore?” he asked cheerfully. “I had this one John that kept paying ridiculous amounts of money for stuff like going to Jazz Festivals and grocery shopping. Turns out, I didn’t need that cash anyway. So I put it towards this piano. Aren’t I crafty?” Yoji’s smile turned beatific.

//Very clever kitty, indeed.// “Come closer.”

Yoji sidled up to him and Schuldich put his arms around the blonde’s waist. He pulled Yoji down into his lap and kissed him—a wet, slow, sensual kiss. He licked at the roof of Yoji’s mouth for a long time. 

Then he turned the younger man around and took up his hands. He straightened Yoji’s long middle finger and had him press down middle C. “Everything starts here,” Schuldich whispered, kissing the top notch of Yoji’s spine. “This is the beginning.”

Yoji’s breathing increased as Schuldich ran his flattened palm in slow circles over Yoji’s crotch. 

Schuldich nipped Yoji’s necklace, tugging his head back. Then he laved at Yoji’s ear, his other hand coming up to play with Yoji’s nipple.

Yoji gasped and rolled his hips. “Schu . . .”

“I love my present, Kudo,” Schuldich said heatedly, pushing Yoji up and over the top of the piano. He slowly pulled Yoji’s pants down around his ankles, and licked a path up Yoji’s thighs, parted his smooth cheeks, and delved inside.

“Agh . . . !” Yoji’s palms splayed over the top, sending a deep ‘baaaaalm’ throughout the house. 

Schuldich continued until Yoji was wet and stretched. Then he stood up, pushed his pajamas down, and entered Yoji slowly, covering Yoji’s back.

~Schu . . .~

He bit down on Yoji’s shoulder and fucked Yoji tenderly, holding nothing back but the pain—he wouldn’t let Yoji register any pain. 

They made love for the rest of the afternoon, deep ‘baaaaalm’s resonating through the empty house, coupled by Yoji’s moans and Schuldich’s breathy exhalations. 

Schuldich was warm. Truly warm. He was happy, whole. Yoji was all around him, inside of him, melting him. 

They ended up under the piano, coming together, staring deeply into each other’s eyes.

Yoji collapsed against him, sweaty and panting. “We have to go soon. Ran and Ken are having that thingy . . .”

Aya-chan had insisted on throwing a Christmas party. The boys were supposed to already be over there, decorating the tree that Ran and Ken had hopefully bought this morning. 

“Yeah,” Schuldich whispered, kissing Yoji’s shoulder. “Need a shower, first.”

Yoji grinned. “I think ‘need a shower’ are my favorite three words that ever came out of your mouth.”

//Really?//

Yoji nodded sleepily, nuzzling him.

Schuldich took a deep breath. “What about ‘I love you?’ ”

The blond froze for a moment, then settled against him. “I love you is good.”

“Yeah?” Schuldich asked, nuzzling him back.

“Yeah,” Yoji whispered, turning around for a kiss. “I love you, too.”

When Schuldich looked in Yoji’s eyes, it was like checking himself in a mirror.

He looked good.


End file.
